FB Post and Responses

 I've been having trouble "getting anywhere" so I posted this note to the Widows FB group I follow:

 3 1/2 years in and I'm having trouble getting going again. I'm very lucky to be financially secure so I don't work. But I don't know what I care about. I used to do art and write but without my spouse there to show drafts and pictures to, I don't anymore. I'm very "other directed" and have no "others" that I care about enough to show stuff to so I don't make stuff. There's nothing productive that I want to do just for myself. All I do when I'm not traveling, is smoke weed, watch TV, and walk my dogs. I can't write except for blog posts. I can't do art anymore. I see other people to talk to for about 5 hours each week and the rest of the time I'm by myself. Having read "Let Them", I now know what it takes to have friends as an adult and I think that someday I'll have the energy to make friends again but right now it looks like too much work. I have a grief therapist who says it goes as it goes and to experience what I'm experiencing. Does anyone have any idea how to care about being productive again when there's not a financial incentive? 

 I got great responses including from women who have been grieving for longer than I and are having the same problem. The primary idea is that I need to "make myself" and "push myself" to get out of the house and I realize that that's right. It doesn't come naturally. I largely just don't want to do stuff and the only way to get stuff done is to give myself a stern talking to and get off my but and do it. I was gratified to note that a couple of women said that even when they push themselves to go out they don't feel connected and whole anymore.  Misery lovesa da company.

Tomorrow, maybe. I think Allan Sherman had a song about doing things tomorrow because "tomorrow never comes."

Coming in to The Haven is helpful. It reminds me that at times I've cared about being a writer, about creating things and maybe I will again.

I've been working, a sentence or bullet point at a time, on a memoir of our marriage. Are we still married? For time and eternity? He is in the house, or his spirit is, but Matthew's Jesus is very clear that there is no "giving in marriage" in the afterlife. Were we together in a past life and will we be together in the next? I wonder about these things.

Will I understand our life if I write about it?

Will I understand myself if I write about it?