If this discussion is elsewhere I apologise for repeating it. I am now at 14 months out from my husband's death.
So far everyone has been correct, in that the first year is an awful, horrible fog of shock.
Now I am finding it very extremely hard (as the magical thinking is slowing down) to "think of" my husband's remains being in the ground. I think to myself 'he is supposed to be here!', and 'this isn't right!'.
We were inseparable. I'm finding it very hard to cope with or truly understand about his body being in the ground - and feel I must be completely crazy and fragile compared to everyone else, and just wonder if anyone else has felt this. It is very intense and very very hard.
Yes I've had bereavement counselling, before you ask.
I'm so sorry that you're having this trouble--it's heartbreaking enough to lose a spouse, it's extra suffering for us to have these intrusive thoughts. I think that I might understand what you're talking about. I lost my dear husband four months ago and am still in a fog (so bear with me). Anyway, even though I could barely think straight I absolutely knew that I could never stand to go the burial route---I'm way too OCD and I knew how my mind would act, rather like what you're describing. I had my poor baby cremated (which is just a less crappy alternative, if you ask me) but I have trouble not obsessing on the aspects of that.
So, here is what I do, I practice CBT (cognitive behavior therapy). It's the art of identifying an intrusive, unwanted thought and not allowing it to get any attention from me. Identify it for what it is, command it to stop and then----hum a song (we can't think and hum or sing at the same time) until the intrusive thought stops hammering at you. Repeat as need (this can take a while) after a while your mind will get the idea that intrusive, sad thoughts are not wanted. Maybe find a good therapist that will help you master the art of this technique.
Again, I'm sorry that you're suffering on top of your suffering, I know what it is like. This is all that I can offer you for help. I hope that you feel better soon.
I don't want to stop the thought I want to work through it and deal with it.
The thought is there for a reason, and as I've stated on three occasions, I would really like hear from someone (or several people) who have had their husband or wife buried, and who has experienced the same thought and worked through it.
Thank you for your reply and attempt to help.
"laying his body to rest" helps a bit
but he's not with me, I feel he should be with me, so I'm not at a place of peace by a long shot.
"laying his body to rest" is about as far as I can go for the foreseeable future.
Your discussion has grabbed hold of me. It's not really what I should be thinking about today (my Charlie breathed his last on April 9, 2012). I just came back from the cemetery.Perhaps that seems hypocrtical when I say I say that I know he is not there. I go to honor him and because it was in that little church next to the cemetery that I saw his earthly remains for the last time. The grave does mean something. We humans do not just abandon the physical bodies that we loved so much.
On the other hand, I believe you do have a very real problem. If you feel or believe that every part (including the soul, essence, spirit) of your husband is buried in that grave, it is not surprising that you are having such a hard time working through it. Both of us know what is happening to the bodies that we buried. That's not a thougt you can "deal with." The thought is unbearable if that is all that is left of the one we love most.
"but he's not with me", you say. My Charlie IS with me. While I had an amazing, inseparable marriage, I would venture to say yours was similar. Why shouild your husband be any less desiring of still being with you?
Does this mean I don't still want him every second of my life? Absolutely not. I will always want to be with him physically. The pain is no less. Put simply, I have not taken my life because I will not jeopardize our chance to be together again.
I wouldn't say this if I didn't care. What you are going through right now is not something that can be dealt with by using logic. Feelings and logic are on opposite ends of the spectrum.
Still wishing you peace. Julie
Rah, I buried my husband and what you are discussing has never entered my mind. I believe the body is a vessel to carry ones soul. Once the soul parts from the body, life leaves that person as we once known them causing death. There are no feeling within the buried body. Your feelings of nooooooo, decomposition, darkness, cold, are just that, they are your feelings because you possess a soul, the life in ones body.
Death is a mystery within itself. No one has ever returned to verify where they are, what they are doing, where are they now. There will always be unanswered questions if one dwells on the unknown. Life support keeps a body's blood flowing but is that person still alive? They have no brain functions to communicate or even breath on their own. The person is classified as being medically alive.
Burials are for the living, to be able to say good-bye to those we loved it is a form of closure. But life for us does not end there we are stuck here picking up all the pieces trying to move forward.
I don't have answers to your questions, or feelings I can only share with you my believes and hope for you. Hugs, Jane P.
Rah, you have me thinking now! I guess deep down I was concerned about certain issues by not allowing myself to dwell on the ones you have raised. Our plots are at the top of the hill with a slight slope for water run off. I do remember when choosing a casket I made sure I purchased one that offered a tight seal and was water proof. The vault the casket went into was also air tight and of the highest standards. But who knows I took all of their word for what they were selling me. I did my best for him with no regrets in life and after death.
After doing some searching on the internet I realized you knowledge would impose concerns more so then I would as a lay person. I do hope someday you can overcome these feelings and just remember the life you shared together. Hugs, Jane P.