Tomorrow is my husband´s birthday. He would be turning 51. Body hasn´t been released yet since August 2nd.
I´ve been reading a lot about the phases of grief and all those stuff to see if I can find myself on any of those posts... But no. Feeling most part of the time alone and numb, I´ve made a good friend here who talks to me. And I´ve hidden even from him my two suicide attempts in this time. Don´t know what´s going on, every day it goes I feel more and more anger and hate about my husband. I understand consciently this is totally weird but... I believed again I could be happy because of him, I believed again in love because of him, He was the one who sais he would never leave and he did, just like everybody else did in my life. Sometimes I wish I could never met him, so hard is being the suffering. Before the last suicide attempt, I had a shelf dedicated to him in my debdroom, with our pics , cards, flowers, rosaries and fluffy animals he gave me. I just threw everything away. Nothing´s left. I can´t hear his name anymore, I can´t think about him without the feeling I´ve been betrayed by him when he died.