From work on Monday, I sent Alun an email.
I promised:
To not commit suicide
To not give up
To find my resilience and to keep going
To take all my meds, attend all my medical/psych appointments and do everything I can to get better.
I asked Alun to help me by:
- Writing letters to me. Oh how I love to get letters. From anyone - but especially from the man I love.
- INSISTING that I rest - because left to my own devices, I would spend my "week off" cleaning and gardening and wearing myself out so I would be in no better state next week than if I went to work.
- Touching me as much as possible. "Hug me or hold my hand as much as you can, Gorg - it makes me feel so safe and so close to you" I pleaded.
"You do your part, I'll do mine. I love you. I need you" I ended the email.
I exhaled as I pressed "send". I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath.
But everyone says when someone is struggling, they should ask for help.
So I went to my husband and I asked.
I faced a long day of work that day, the GP appointment afterwards and the journey home on packed buses and trains.
As I stepped off the train platform we live closest to, I spotted Alun's rugby shirt.
He was waiting for me at the station, bless him.
Alun held my hand and walked me home.
Oh Alun.
At home, he led me to our bedroom where the door was shut. We haven't shut the door once in our year of living here.
Hmm.
"Open it, Gorg" Alun smiled "It's a surprise!"
And I opened the door. First, I noticed the lavender, bergamot and orange scent that filled the room. It was so lovely. Alun had made the bedroom look like a peaceful, expensive hotel room. Alun ran over to my side of the bed "Look, Gorg! I bought you this!" and on my bedside table stood a little vase with smoke coming out of the top.
A diffuser.
(You add water and drops of scented oil into it and for hours it quietly bubbles away and sends out a "calming scent" through a little cloud of smoke).
That man touches my heart. Truly. My Alun is my whole world, you know.
We hung out that evening, just the two of us, trading songs (Alun thinks he's such a guru but he picks such weirdo songs) and telling stories of us growing up. I love hearing Alun's stories, they are so funny and sweet. He was such a mischievous little kid, bless him.
Alun drank wine and his stories got longer and more confusing.
I started falling asleep, feeling so safe at home with him.
All of a sudden, Alun burst out in tears.
"Please Gorg...please don't leave me"
Oh Alun.
"I know you want to kill yourself and I've had that happen before with Paul...I will never get over that loss...please don't leave me" He wept.
My heart broke about a million times.
I keep forgetting how much this breaks Alun's heart and how much he's already grieving the loss of his best friend.
What kind of a person am I to put him through this again?
"I went to the store...to get your diffuser" Alun hiccuped and cried harder "I cried in that store. I told the woman at the counter - give me whatever you can to save my wife. I need to make sure she sleeps well, because she doesn't sleep anymore. I will pay you anything"
At this, Alun's walls crumbled and he wailed. All the pain he'd been keeping inside rolled out onto his lovely cheeks and down the chin that I have loved for 10 years of my life.
Oh Alun...I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so incredibly sorry.
I can't imagine Alun in tears in a store. He is so manly and stoic that he'd never cry in front of anyone. It shows how much he's going through for him to be so upset in a public space.
I feel disgusting for putting him through this.
I held Alun as his body shook and he cried and cried and cried.
My stupid heart and mind had shut down completely so as much as I wanted to cry with him so Alun would know I understood and I felt so much love for him, and so very sorry I had put him through such pain...no tears came out. I held my husband and was as cold as a robot.
WHY AM I SO UNFEELING AT THE MOST IMPORTANT TIMES???
"I'll be okay, Gorg" Alun forced a smile. He tries so hard to be happy that it makes my soul ache.
"I'm so sorry, Alun" I held him as tight as I could.
Alun fell asleep not long after. On the sofa. I tucked myself in next to him as close as I could - most of my butt hanging off the edge as two grown adults aren't meant to fit on a small 2-seater sofa laying down...and I just watched him sleep until the sun came up. I just watched the rise and fall of his chest and listened to his breathing and just thanked God every minute of that night for Alun in my life.
Every day since then, Alun thinks of a 'surprise' for me. On Tuesday it was flowers. Long stemmed river lilly things (sorry, I don't know their name) and two big bunches of delicate orchids. Our living room looks like Spring time. It is so beautiful. Today (Wednesday) Alun has left little notes all around the house saying things like "so many people love you" "You are awesome" "Be strong, beautiful wife". It's made my day.
I can't let go of the guilt, though. I can't erase the pure distress on Alun's face when he cried on Monday night. I think of it every time the diffuser by our bed bubbles and steams.
I promised:
To not commit suicide
To not give up
To find my resilience and to keep going
To take all my meds, attend all my medical/psych appointments and do everything I can to get better.
I asked Alun to help me by:
- Writing letters to me. Oh how I love to get letters. From anyone - but especially from the man I love.
- INSISTING that I rest - because left to my own devices, I would spend my "week off" cleaning and gardening and wearing myself out so I would be in no better state next week than if I went to work.
- Touching me as much as possible. "Hug me or hold my hand as much as you can, Gorg - it makes me feel so safe and so close to you" I pleaded.
"You do your part, I'll do mine. I love you. I need you" I ended the email.
I exhaled as I pressed "send". I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath.
But everyone says when someone is struggling, they should ask for help.
So I went to my husband and I asked.
I faced a long day of work that day, the GP appointment afterwards and the journey home on packed buses and trains.
As I stepped off the train platform we live closest to, I spotted Alun's rugby shirt.
He was waiting for me at the station, bless him.
Alun held my hand and walked me home.
Oh Alun.
At home, he led me to our bedroom where the door was shut. We haven't shut the door once in our year of living here.
Hmm.
"Open it, Gorg" Alun smiled "It's a surprise!"
And I opened the door. First, I noticed the lavender, bergamot and orange scent that filled the room. It was so lovely. Alun had made the bedroom look like a peaceful, expensive hotel room. Alun ran over to my side of the bed "Look, Gorg! I bought you this!" and on my bedside table stood a little vase with smoke coming out of the top.
A diffuser.
(You add water and drops of scented oil into it and for hours it quietly bubbles away and sends out a "calming scent" through a little cloud of smoke).
That man touches my heart. Truly. My Alun is my whole world, you know.
We hung out that evening, just the two of us, trading songs (Alun thinks he's such a guru but he picks such weirdo songs) and telling stories of us growing up. I love hearing Alun's stories, they are so funny and sweet. He was such a mischievous little kid, bless him.
Alun drank wine and his stories got longer and more confusing.
I started falling asleep, feeling so safe at home with him.
All of a sudden, Alun burst out in tears.
"Please Gorg...please don't leave me"
Oh Alun.
"I know you want to kill yourself and I've had that happen before with Paul...I will never get over that loss...please don't leave me" He wept.
My heart broke about a million times.
I keep forgetting how much this breaks Alun's heart and how much he's already grieving the loss of his best friend.
What kind of a person am I to put him through this again?
"I went to the store...to get your diffuser" Alun hiccuped and cried harder "I cried in that store. I told the woman at the counter - give me whatever you can to save my wife. I need to make sure she sleeps well, because she doesn't sleep anymore. I will pay you anything"
At this, Alun's walls crumbled and he wailed. All the pain he'd been keeping inside rolled out onto his lovely cheeks and down the chin that I have loved for 10 years of my life.
Oh Alun...I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so incredibly sorry.
I can't imagine Alun in tears in a store. He is so manly and stoic that he'd never cry in front of anyone. It shows how much he's going through for him to be so upset in a public space.
I feel disgusting for putting him through this.
I held Alun as his body shook and he cried and cried and cried.
My stupid heart and mind had shut down completely so as much as I wanted to cry with him so Alun would know I understood and I felt so much love for him, and so very sorry I had put him through such pain...no tears came out. I held my husband and was as cold as a robot.
WHY AM I SO UNFEELING AT THE MOST IMPORTANT TIMES???
"I'll be okay, Gorg" Alun forced a smile. He tries so hard to be happy that it makes my soul ache.
"I'm so sorry, Alun" I held him as tight as I could.
Alun fell asleep not long after. On the sofa. I tucked myself in next to him as close as I could - most of my butt hanging off the edge as two grown adults aren't meant to fit on a small 2-seater sofa laying down...and I just watched him sleep until the sun came up. I just watched the rise and fall of his chest and listened to his breathing and just thanked God every minute of that night for Alun in my life.
Every day since then, Alun thinks of a 'surprise' for me. On Tuesday it was flowers. Long stemmed river lilly things (sorry, I don't know their name) and two big bunches of delicate orchids. Our living room looks like Spring time. It is so beautiful. Today (Wednesday) Alun has left little notes all around the house saying things like "so many people love you" "You are awesome" "Be strong, beautiful wife". It's made my day.
I can't let go of the guilt, though. I can't erase the pure distress on Alun's face when he cried on Monday night. I think of it every time the diffuser by our bed bubbles and steams.
Comments
Post a Comment