Welcome To My Head.

by Lori Dwyer on April 30, 2011 · 29 comments

I wish I could articulate, properly, what’s it’s like to be inside my head right now.

Most days…. I do OK. Just OK. I enjoy little things. I think a lot. I listen to music.

I mourn.

Other days…

It’s like my mind is trying to put on a hat, and my head is just too big for it.

I was so used to life, as it was….

Tony and I, we were one of those couples- I’m sure there’s plenty of you- for whom divorce just wasn’t a real option. We were in it together, through everything. We adored being married.

I loved my plain, simple, gold band wedding ring. And it hurts me not to wear it.. but the presence of it, it sears my finger, and I find myself playing with it, reminding myself without meaning too.

Do you remember, when you were little, and you lost a tooth… pushing your tongue into the soft hole that was left, hurting but feeling strangley good, because it’s a sensation you’ve never felt before?

Welcome to my head. When I think about my husband. It makes me deliriously happy, to remember the Before, the perfect little family we had…. but it’s just damn sad, it takes my breath away.

Imagine the cornerstone of your life, the thing you depend upon and plan around.. suddenly it’s gone, with no warning.

And every time you picture the rest of your life, you have to remind yourself.

That what was- a normal, surbanan, boring existence… growing old with my husband, watching the hair sprout out his ears as his hairline recedes… cuddling up with him, through forty more winters…

All that, it’s gone. And some days, days like today, all I can see in the future in a wasteland- raising my children, alone. Being the Women Who Drove Her Husband To Suicide.

Knowing that once-and not that long ago- I had everything I wanted. A man who loved me, and who I adored. A pigeon pair of perfect children.

I’d love to spend just one minute, back in my old life. In my head, the way it used to be.

As the women with the perfect life, the perfect husband. The woman who didn’t know what it felt like to lose someone, who had no real concept of death.

Some days- days like today- it feels like she was a much nicer person. Nicer, sweeter, far less jaded.

Not as strong. But I’d trade the strength, for the ignorance-is-bliss. In a heartbeat.

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{ 29 comments… read them below or add one }

theKatieKitten May 7, 2011 at 3:12 am

Honey, my partner has been really sick with Man-flu, and I can't even drive him to the doctors. You did not drive Tony any where. You just plain could not have.


I Love Bimby May 3, 2011 at 7:39 pm

Please let go of the belief that you drove Tony to this. In the end he is responsible for his own actions.

My ex husband used to blame me for making his life miserable too, but the truth was, that he was not happy in his own skin. We can only take responsibility for ourselves. Everyone elses actions are their responsibility.

So please next time your at the beach make a little paper boat, put that belief in there and watch the ocean wash it away forever. xx


starnes family May 3, 2011 at 2:37 pm

Thinking about you and hoping for better days ahead.

xo, Casey from http://www.thestarnesfam.com


Janet May 3, 2011 at 1:11 am

I found your blog right after this happened to you. I was reading your blog thinking how horrible this must be for someone to live through. I made my husband read your post because this was the most awful story I had heard from a real live person in a long time. I felt like I was hearing it firsthand. I couldn't stop reading. I hurt so bad for you and now my family is on the other side with you.
My sisters husband was killed in the line of duty in March and I wonder if I found your blog because my family was about to go through terrible heartache that we could never imagine. I read your blog now for insight into the grief my sister must be feeling. I have my own grief for my brother in law but what she is going through is unimaginable. She is surviving for her small children, but I am sure she wants nothing more than to lay in bed and cry.

I have thanked you in the past for writing so honestly but I am thanking you again. You did not cause this and the pain will never go away but will instead become bearable.


Trik82 May 2, 2011 at 10:42 pm

Can't find the words like you can Lori… just wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you and sending you and the kiddies love xox


Sarah May 2, 2011 at 6:14 pm

Lori, I always feel really inarticulate after I read your most beautiful posts. This one was so sad for me to read, such sadness and unfairness, but you write it so beautifully. I agree with Melissa – you are the woman who survived, who is surviving, this awful thing. You're doing amazing xx


Sophie May 2, 2011 at 1:16 pm

It is normal for you to feel guilt, to blame yourself, to feel you drove him to it. But you didn't, this is not something anyone could have forseen, or anyone is responsible for.

Long after my loss I came to the conclusion that there is no reason and no karma (karma can kiss my ass). Bad shit happens to good people and its grossly, hugely unfair… because we're all taught from an early age that this kind of shit happens to 'other people'. Once you're on the other side of that fence, it's just so mindlblowingly, soul crushingly awful.



Brenda May 2, 2011 at 12:36 pm

Big hugs Lori.xxxx


Jodie at Mummy Mayhem May 2, 2011 at 12:35 pm

Hon, you most definitely did not make this happen. Couples argue all the time and this stuff doesn't happen. Tony was not well.

Hang in there. xxx


Melissa May 2, 2011 at 8:05 am

You didn't drive your man anywhere. You are The Woman Who Survived A Horrible, Tragic, Loss. You are The Woman Who Pulled It Together For Her Kids. You are you, just older, wiser, different – but still you.
Hang in.


bloodsigns May 1, 2011 at 10:53 pm

I just wanted to tell you that I was reading — here across the ocean — I hate the thought of you not knowing just how many people are holding you in their hearts.



themodernparent May 1, 2011 at 5:53 pm

Whilst a loss of a different kind, when we lost our daughter there were so many emotions that take you to all sorts of places..sometimes happy, sometimes weird, but most often downright sad. And I too once wrote about the strength people talked about, and how they could never have coped if it happened to them…but as you know you really have no choice, and I too would gladly have traded that strength to once again hold my daughter. But if it means anything…all that stuff in your head….its all pretty normal x


Andrea May 1, 2011 at 4:38 pm

What michael said.



Stylish Mummy May 1, 2011 at 4:01 pm

Aww honey.. you DID NOT drive Tony to do what he did.
Everything will take time to get over and fade… you need to give yourself time to do that, as hard as it is :S


Glowless @ Where’s My Glow May 1, 2011 at 3:51 pm



boomerang jane May 1, 2011 at 3:42 pm

"forty more winters" what bittersweet words. Yet inspiring words. I hope I am lucky enough to enjoy a meager 40 more winters or 40 more summers. Thank you for reminding me what's important. I know you will soon look forward to having 40 more winters to enjoy with your children – without the sorrow you now feel in your heart.


River May 1, 2011 at 2:38 pm

You are just as strong as before Lori, it's a different kind of strength now, that's all. And you didn't drive Tony, you really didn't. Living and loving does not cause suicide.


phonakins May 1, 2011 at 1:03 pm



Veronica May 1, 2011 at 10:44 am

Love. xx


Sarah May 1, 2011 at 8:19 am

That sweet, nice woman is still there, I've seen her in person & I can see her here still, in this space. She just needs time to come back after everything she's been through. She will be back but with the added bonus of strength & wisdom.

And as hard as it is, please please try not to blame yourself. You did not do this.


Diminishing Lucy May 1, 2011 at 8:08 am

You didn't make this happen Lori. It just did.


Michael May 1, 2011 at 7:31 am

You didn't drive him. The disease did.


Darker Side of Pink May 1, 2011 at 6:44 am

I definitely understand the wish to go back, even for just a moment of bliss. You lose someone, but you expected to have more time. The explaination that I recieved was that pain, suffering, is to be human. We all must experience it at some point because nothing in this life is permanent. It makes life sweeter and harder at the same time. It is ridiculously unfair. But we live for those good moments, even if there are bad ones, because they too are not permanent.


A Daft Scots Lass May 1, 2011 at 1:00 am

Strength will get you through this. Do things that make YOU happy.


Mel May 1, 2011 at 12:45 am

Your grief is so different to mine, but I know those feelings.
It's like even though only one thing in your life has changed, you've got to learn to live it all over again.
Keep at it Lori.


Hear Mum Roar May 1, 2011 at 12:01 am

I just have to hope that things get easier for you soon ((HUGS))


Squiggly Rainbow April 30, 2011 at 10:41 pm

Ignorance surely is bliss, pain is hard. My heart aches tonight for different reasons. I think of you often. I would love to be outside my head many times too – I like La La Land.

Rach xx


Salamander April 30, 2011 at 10:37 pm

Oh honey. Love, as always. What else can I send? Nothing that would give you your Before back. There's thousands of us who would do anything to get your Before back, I think. Xxxxx


freefalling May 1, 2011 at 7:02 am

Why do you keep saying you drove Tony to suicide?
You know you can't drive someone to suicide, right?
Take that out of your head or it will fester into a great big ugly sore.


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