This note was prepared to document my “emotional status” in the weeks following the loss of my beloved wife GLENDA.

By Mike Pusey
Glenda’s Husband

Glenda was born on 28 September 1958 and succumbed to Pancreatic Cancer on 20 August 2015. We were together for 27 years and married for 25 years.

The initial driver was to assist with Grief Counselling without having to repeat multiple times as I anticipated the effort would be both traumatic and taxing.

It has been five weeks since this cataclysmic event. The numbness and shock are still surging and waning. The hollowness and ache remain constant.

The loneliness is overwhelming.

The days pass in a daze and seem endless. Sleep is sporadic. I go to bed to dream of her and to try to find some level of inner peace. I awake a few hours later, dreading the futility of what is to come.

I miss her so much that each day feels so useless. Everyone else has gone back to their normal routines which I will never have again. There has been no contact from anyone except immediate family. I visit the gravesite regularly to talk in the hope that this may bring a smattering of peace to my tormented soul. The effectiveness of this is waning however I come away better than I started.

I feel as though my future died with Glenda. My rock has crumbled, my beacon extinguished. I feel too old to start over again. I don’t have any close friends. We did things together but I rarely did anything with anyone else. I don’t have any hobbies and I don’t have any interest in starting one now.

The rational part of my brain knows she has gone but the emotional part can’t accept it. When I try, all I do is think how much I miss her and start crying again. The ache is almost unbearable

All our plans and hopes for the future were just that – “Our” plans and now they are all gone. I was thinking of retiring in a few years just to spend more time with her. I was a little worried as to what I would do with all that time on my hands. Now I can’t think of retirement so I plan to continue work as a refuge though it has no meaning for me anymore.

I have sought out help from family, friends and others who may have some inkling of what I am going through. I have talked and all have listened. None can really offer advice as each individual’s suffering is different. One poor soul appears to be coping a lot worse than myself; I really feel for him but am not in a fit state to offer support.

I have had one session of counselling but found little relief.

I have visited the GP to get some assistance to sleep however I am terrified that I will forget and my memories, although a burden, are also my most cherished asset.

Will things improve? At this stage I feel as though I am at rock bottom with no glimmer of hope for the future. I can see no light to allow me to focus on a path out of this morass. My rational side tells me that I and I alone are the only one that can find this path. I only hope and pray that the path leads towards the light and not away from it as it is strewn with trigger points which easily overwhelm any small gains. I beg for some form of intervention (either earthly or spiritual) which will give me something to anchor my hopes to and give meaning to this existence – but nothing eventuates.

I continue the search for a more spiritual answer to my hell in the hope that it will provide some meaning to all of this and allow this tormented soul to finally rest.

My love for my “Soulmate”, my best friend, has in no way diminished with this process. I would say that if anything, it has increased.

Mike Pusey, Glenda’s Husband
Solace Grief Support Group WA Inc.