My husband of 20 years passed in January from complications of excessive drinking. Even before the drinking became a problem, we knew he would pass before me barring an accident because of other health issues. I've been prepared for this for a long time. It still hurts. It hurts every day, but nothing i do or don't do will change anything. I have chosen to rediscover myself through travel, exercise, hiking, decluttering, and finding the spontaneous, fun, wild person I used to be before I settled down and had my now grown kids.
My friend told me today that she thought I was spiraling because I got in a plane for the first time ever to visit an old friend who is experiencing a similar situation after the loss of his wife, started working out using equipment I've had for 3 years but never used because it annoyed my husband, and bought a bra to make my new clothes fit better after not wearing one for 10 years. I've lost almost 30 lbs since January on purpose. I can hike for hours without being so tired I can't function. I bought new clothes in styles I never thought would fit. I've been to places I never dreamed of going because he wouldn't go with me. I've planned more trips to do and see more things he never would have agreed to.
I loved my husband but I see now that he held me back in a lot of ways. Our life wasn't bad, we had wonderful kids, a nice house, decent cars, and what looks like the dream life from the outside. But 20 yr old me would be so disappointed in 49 yr old me. I let myself stagnate. I can see that now and I want to change it. But apparently not wanting to garden and spend every day at home instead of seeing and doing new things at every opportunity is somehow wrong.
I'm used to being judged in my community. I've never fit the mold of sweet southern church girl. Most of my life has been spent going against the expectations of my family and community, but I really thought that since I've not crawled in a bottle or flung my car into the scenery, I was making decent choices in this season of my life. Having my one friend who I thought truly knew and understood me tell me I'm self destructing really hurts. I might do crazy shit, but I've done nothing stupid or dangerous or life threatening.