The death of your partner: An ungraspable reality

 

April 29... The horror of this day catches up with me one week early this year. The flare-up of memories, image sequences, sounds, smells, shock, loss of reality, horror, insomnia, massive fear of loss, depression... The feeling of a never-ending nightmare.

 

It's just before 6 o'clock in the morning. I wake up and immediately sense that something is wrong. My partner Jürgen is not lying next to me in bed. Nothing unusual really, everyone has to go to the toilet or have a drink, but the apartment is unnaturally quiet. I call out. No answer. I get up. The bathroom is empty, as is the kitchen. But no, that's not true. Why did Jürgen lie down on the cold kitchen floor to sleep? Incomprehension changes abruptly to sheer horror. A rift in time appears, reality shifts from one second to the next. I pull the phone out of the station, dial 112 completely mechanically, call the emergency number over the loudspeaker, while I kneel next to Jürgen and start with heart massage and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The next 20 minutes alternate between hysterical begging for the emergency doctor to hurry up, desperate pleas for Jürgen to come back and mechanical resuscitation attempts, while my body is shaken by crying fits. My inner self refuses to understand what my mind has long understood. The horror is so great, the situation so cruel, that I shut out all logic and emotions. It's a state that can't be explained to anyone who doesn't know it. You feel everything and nothing. You're like in a coma and yet wide awake.

The emergency doctor arrives and I am relieved of the cardiac massage. Jürgen is pulled out of the kitchen into the dining area as there is more space there. While a paramedic cuts Jürgen's T-shirt to connect the equipment and start an infusion, I think "Jürgen must be freezing...". The rescue team alternates between heart massage and defibrillator. But the continuous beeping remains. A sound that has stayed with me ever since, just like my partner's open eyes and the noises his body makes during ventilation. It takes an hour before the rescue team gives up. I now believe that some of the time was invested on my behalf, because it quickly became clear that Jürgen could not be saved. He had died suddenly and completely unexpectedly at around 4 a.m. from a pulmonary embolism. The emergency doctor told me that there was nothing I could have done, but that doesn't change the fact that I blame myself. If I had woken up, I would have sent him to the doctor first. The accusations of a survivor who still doesn't understand the situation.

Years have now passed and I lead a contented and happy life. They say that time heals wounds. It doesn't do shit! It helps that you no longer think about it all the time, no longer live through it in a continuous loop, but the shock, the horror, the pain, the incomprehension, the horror remain completely unchanged inside you. It lurks in the background. A sound, a smell, a memory and it bursts out. Often it doesn't even take that to catapult me back into this nightmare.

After Jürgen's death, dear people stood by my side. I am infinitely grateful to them. But no one who hasn't experienced the same or something similar can help you. Probably not even them. The world ceases to exist. It's as if you're sitting in a movie theater watching an action movie. Suddenly the screen splits. On one side, a horror movie appears that only you can see. Everyone else sees the action movie that you saw before, but which is now suddenly hidden from you. No matter what you try to explain, your situation is not understood because no one but you can see the other movie. The world is suddenly split in two and there is no more togetherness.

Every morning, I was amazed that the sun had risen. Something that suddenly seemed impossible in my reality. It sounds crazy, but the things we usually take for granted are suddenly no longer so. Since I hadn't learned any other way, I mechanically, robotically did all the things that needed to be done. I thanked people politely when they wished me heartfelt condolences even though I just wanted to scream. The outside world was proud of me, how brave and strong I was. Very few people knew how I really felt. I suffered crying fits and nervous breakdowns alone in the apartment we shared. During this time, I learned that people are afraid of their finiteness and that anything that reminds them of it is pushed away as quickly as possible. After a very short time, sentences like "You have to look ahead!" "Life goes on!" "Time heals wounds!" Yes, your life goes on because it hasn't been derailed and you don't want to be reminded of this possibility.

I went on with my life. Mechanically did what had to be done, what was expected of me. Decided against death despite the emptiness and the constant horror. I thought about it while speeding down the highway and a truck pulled into my lane. It would have been so easy to accelerate a little more and put an end to it all. Would it have worked? I don't know, because I decided against it. At that moment, I saw Jürgen and my deceased grandparents in front of me. I felt that they were with me and I knew it would be wrong to let them down. I mastered the situation, like many others. Often only through routine and/or luck. I only felt extremes for almost 2 years. I often provoked these situations while driving. Always in such a way that no one else was endangered but me. Today I know that my behavior was madness and that I was incredibly lucky that nothing ever went wrong.

My behavior will seem irrational and idiotic to outsiders, but when you are trapped in a nightmare, unable to feel anything except the horror of the moment of finding your deceased partner, you try everything to wake up, to escape, or you surrender and give up.

I'm not writing this to get sympathy. Life is what it is and death is part of it. I'm writing this because I still haven't come to terms with what I've experienced. It always catches up with me and pulls me off course. By the anniversary of the death at the latest, I'm completely beside myself inside. I'm trying to make it a little more real by no longer hiding it.

I am writing this because I have desperately tried to explain everything to those around me. To explain what was happening inside me, to me. But no one could understand. Maybe today I can, because it's still a part of me.

I'm writing it for people who have had or have to experience something similar. For example, a friend in America who lost her husband suddenly and unexpectedly in a car accident and has also been trapped in her nightmare ever since. She is also unable to explain the shock, the horror, the endless pain and what is happening to and within her to those around her. Perhaps my report will help a little.

I sought psychological help. Something I would strongly recommend to anyone in this situation. I did it to find a way back into my life. An illusion, because the life before no longer existed. I had to learn to come to terms with it somehow and admit that I had to let go of the before, because life now goes on differently.

I didn't think I could ever be happy again, but I am. I live more intensely but I also live with a constant fear of loss breathing down my neck. The nightmare won't let go of me. I can't hear my husband or the cats breathing, he comes home a little later than expected, an ambulance or helicopter crosses his path at the right time and I panic. In the meantime, I manage to calm down again, but the fear remains. Through years of therapy, I have managed to live with this fear to some extent. Not to give in to it, not to collapse in horror at what might happen.

The nightmare of the night of April 29th and its consequences are still my companions. I don't know if it will ever change, but how could it? Something happened that night that I still don't understand. Jürgen and I were toasting my new bike before going to bed and making plans for the next day. And then suddenly he was no longer there.

I am writing this for the people who have to experience such a loss. Perhaps it will help you to read the account of someone who also has lived through this.

I am writing this for those affected, their families, friends, colleagues and acquaintances who are helpless and overwhelmed by an incomprehensible situation. The person affected cannot explain what is happening to them. They cannot put what they have experienced into words. Be patient with them. Be understanding of irrational behavior. This does not mean supporting self-harming behavior or tacitly accepting everything the person does. Don't wait for them to ask you for help, they can't do it. Find out if and where they need help. After a death, there are many formalities to take care of. Things need to be organized and sorted. See if you can help with this. Find out whether the person concerned can cope financially and with everyday things such as shopping, eating, etc. Whether they need medical or psychological support.

If that person can allow it, take her in your arms without talking. There are no appropriate or comforting words. What the person needs is support. I had the feeling that my world was falling apart just like me. It wasn't words that helped me, but the silent embrace of a friend.

Don’t avoid talking about the deceased. It is natural not to dare to talk about the deceased because you don't want to hurt the other person. But keeping quiet can make it even worse. It gave me the feeling that everyone had forgotten Jürgen immediately. Fortunately, I managed to verbalize this so that people talked to me about their experiences with Jürgen and we laughed about it together and mourned the loss. It doesn't change the pain and the nightmares, but it gave me the feeling of being held, of not falling into a bottomless abyss and kept me from shattering.

Grief is a complex, highly individual process for which there is no one-size-fits-all recipe or time frame for completion. Everyone grieves differently and for different lengths of time. In my opinion, time and trained support are important.

 

My wish for all of you is to tell each other what you mean to each other. Don't take anything or anyone for granted. Notice the little things in life. Never go to bed without having settled disagreements.

Jürgen and I had a wonderful time. Of course, we also had our problems and after his death I had to realize that you never know a person as well as you think you do. But I am infinitely grateful that our last words were a happy "I love you".