From Wife to Widow
Not the entire story but a start…
Someone told me not too long ago that writing about trauma is cathartic. It helps you get out the demons that you yourself might not even know you have. This is the start of that healing. While this is not my entire story, this is a brief telling of the events that led me to now. Being a widow at only 33.
I didn’t want to write it all down at once. Some parts of my story need more details than others. With this story I left room to come back and tell those details when I need to tell them.
Bad choices were made by my husband, but I made my own. I did things that I am not proud of but some of those are things that I could never regret. They helped shape me into the person I am now.
Be mindful of triggers please. (Alcohol abuse and death of a spouse.)
At 33 I am not the same person I was at 19. At that age my sole concern was finding love. Scratch that. My sole concern was finding someone who would want to be with me. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t even about companionship. It was about finding someone who would stay. I can’t even blame it on a bad childhood or a lack of love there. Some like to tell me it was “daddy issues” because my biological dad wasn’t the best. He was around. He paid child support, and I was taken care of, but he wasn’t what a “dad”…
