Bereavement Assessment anyone had this after death of spouse ?

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Had a telephone call from my local macmillan bereavement support today, they said they would call around 6 weeks after my husbands death, I spent quite a while upset on the phone as I could really talk about how things really are and have been. Later this week I'm having a telephone assessment which can take up to 45 mins just to make sure I’m getting or going to get the right help I think. Then there is a waiting list after that apparently. I know I probably need some help support or something but I also know this is grieving and everyone is different. How can they help.? Should I feel better after this I feel ashamed that I am needing this too. 
Someone said a quote “ rock in a pocket it’s heavy at first but then over time it will get lighter you will still be carrying it but it will get lighter “ I haven’t seen or heard that one .

Do you just find sometimes you just want to talk and come on here to say something.? 

Also phoned a local place 24/7 number too that was suggested to me to offer help and support with a drop in centre if needed to …I called I talked I cried to some stranger who said the right things and listened I would never have done that ever before if my husband was here, why am I doing it now. To me it feels strange and yet I’m on here too something else I wouldn’t have needed is it just loneliness or am I going round the bend?

Had a few headaches over the weekend and again today and did actually contact my doctors for some more migraine meds. Been a bit stressed too I do get migraines anyway and have cried a fair bit today so that doesn’t help either. Didn’t have any desire to go out or do anything again today spent more time lazing around. Got to go out tomorrow I’m at work for another challenging day. 

  • There is no shame in getting help. I got counselling through my doctor.  It helped me, even just speaking to somebody in a safe space. I could tell them the truth about that night,without fear of upsetting them. I did make her cry at one stage. I don't know if that's good or bad. After 9 visits it ended,which I understand.  I did something similar on the phone but they told me it was to early yet ? 

     What might work for one, might not work for the other. As we are all different. 

  • Thank you -  in the past I have been quite independent managed things and worked through things with the help and support of my husband. Not needing or asking for help we got through things. So it does feel strange to me having and needing help. 

    I admit now we got a few things wrong along the way with my husbands illness and not asking for help or realising there was so much help around should you need it,I should have got a hand rail installed up the stairs sooner, my husband said he didn’t need it, I got a wheelchair too late too but you learn from your mistakes but we did get a few little outings out in it together once he accepted that it was easier for me too. 


  • Grief is Like Carrying a Stone in Your Pocket
    “The best way I can describe grief as the years go by is to say it’s similar to carrying a stone in your pocket.
    When you walk, the stone brushes against your skin. You feel it. You always feel it. But depending on the way you stand or the way your body moves, the smooth edges might barely graze your body.
    Sometimes you lean the wrong way or you turn too quickly and a sharp edge pokes you. Your eyes water and you rub your wound but you have to keep going because not everyone knows about your stone, or if they do, they don’t realize it can still bring this much pain.
    There are days you are simply happy now, smiling comes easy and you laugh without thinking. You slap your leg during that laughter and you feel your stone and aren’t sure whether you should be laughing still. The stone still hurts.
    Once in a while you can’t take your hand off that stone. You run it over your fingers and roll it in your palm and are so preoccupied by its weight, you forget things like your car keys and home address. You try to leave it alone but you just can’t. You want to take a nap but it’s been so many years since you’ve called in “sad” you’re not sure anyone would understand anymore or if they ever did.
    But most days you can take your hand in and out of your pocket, feel your stone and even smile at its unwavering presence. You’ve accepted this stone as your own, crossing your hands over it, saying “mine” as children do.
    You rest more peacefully than you once did, you’ve learned to move forward the best you can. Some days you want to show the world what a beautiful memory you’re holding. But most days you twirl it through your fingers, smile and look to the sky. You squeeze your hands together and hope you are living in a way that honors the missing piece you carry, until your arms are full again.”
    Written by
    Jessica Watson ~