Living in fear

One of the things I didn't expect about grief was how scared I would be. All the time. This is hard for me, because I've always felt anxious but behaved fearlessly. Courage isn't the absence of fear - it's feeling fear but doing what you have to do anyway, and all that.

No more. Now, I'm paralyzed by fear. Constantly.

I've already told the story of how being unable to reach my son for two hours sent me into a panic attack complete with hysterical tears. Let me tell you about my new batch of fears:

Death would be fine; death by SARS-CoV-2? Not so much

We're in the early stages of a pandemic hitting our nation, and people have lost their minds. As kind as everyone was in the aftermath of the tornado just two short weeks ago, that's how selfish and insane they are now. They're hoarding toilet paper and baby formula and bread and eggs and canned goods. They're going out to bars and restaurants because "I'm young and healthy, so I'll be fine."

Meanwhile, I can't stay home 24/7. I have to go to the bank. I have to go to the CPA. I have to meet with a probate attorney. I have to see my grief counselor and my therapist. I have to get Prowler to the vet, because he seems to be developing an upper respiratory infection - on top of the pancreatitis he's been fighting for two months.

And being out puts me at risk. No, I'm not over 60. But I'm barely sleeping, and I'm barely eating, and we all know that stress isn't good for one's immune system.

I know I've said I don't want to live anymore - and I don't. But I sure don't want to check out by choking to death on my own lung secretions, and I REALLY don't want to get sick and expose a healthcare provider to it either.

My sister, the critical care nurse

My sister lives in South Carolina; she's a critical care nurse. She was planning to come out here with her husband in another couple of weeks to spend the weekend with me. But now, thanks to our population's unwillingness to do what's necessary to slow the outbreak, she probably can't. She, by the way, IS 60 and therefore in the high risk group. But she'll be caring for patients.

I'm so scared that she's going to catch it, that I can't breathe all over again. I cannot lose my sister on top of losing Doug. I can't. 

Existential and practical fears

I'm afraid of being sick (or injured) and alone with no one to take care of me. I'm afraid that I'm always going to feel the way I've felt for the past 25 days. I'm afraid that I'll never be able to go back to work and end up homeless. I'm afraid convinced that the light will never come back into my eyes. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose everyone I care about - either to this stupid virus or to the fact that they'll just vanish because they can't deal with this new and decidedly NOT improved me (not that I blame them; I don't want to be around me, either). 

I'm afraid that I'll never love another man again - and with a life expectancy inching toward the 80s, that's a long time to be alone and celibate. Conversely, I'm afraid that I WILL love another man someday, and doesn't that dishonor Doug? I'm afraid I'll never dream about Doug or get any sign that he's still with me and still loves me. I'm afraid that I WILL dream about Doug, but he'll be angry or hate me now. I'm afraid of living. I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid of EVERYTHING.

Distractions can only do so much to pass the time. I miss my husband. If Doug were here, we'd be watching stuff together on Netflix. We'd be eating elaborate, healthy, delicious meals. We'd be snuggled up together and watching the rest of the world's insanity, grateful to have each other.

But he's not. And during the worst time of my life, I have to miss him desperately and cope with all this fear. And I have to do it completely alone.