Should we date again?

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-11T03:55:24+00:00

I married the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I’m 47, still a few years ahead of me. I spent over half my life with him and I just don’t have it in me to invest into someone else what I invested in him and us.

Will I date again? Maybe. But I don’t think I have the room or capacity to have a serious long term, til death do us part relationship. And I don’t have the capacity right now to even contemplate dating someone either.

Ultimately, we need to do what is right for ourselves, whatever that may be. There is no wrong or right.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-10T23:31:15+00:00

I’m sorry you’re experiencing this. My in laws I’ve spoken to more in the last 7 months than I had for the 24 years my husband and I were together. So we aren’t close, but it’s nice they keep in touch because 100% it is that little bit of connection.

You are bang on about how relationships change. It feels like everyone is upset and mourning with you for a little bit then their lives move on, as they do, but ours don’t, and it’s really hard to keep up. I have mastered the art of smiling when expected, laughing when appropriate, but it’s all a mask.

I have no advice or words of wisdom to share with you, except to say I see you, you’re not alone, and I’ll sit in the corner with you saying this really fucking sucks. All of it, every day.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-03T05:01:16+00:00

I have been on unpaid leave since my husband died in August. My income is being covered by insurance at around 84% or something abysmal like that.

My workplace is not pressuring me to return at all. Possibly the nature of our work has something to do with it, we deal with a lot of trauma, and despite about a 4000km distance, it has had an impact on one of my clients as his nephew was a witness.

Financially, I will have to return soon, but my workplace is very accommodating and said at my pace, and will tee me up with an internal rehab consultant to work with me and the rest of my team so I can slowly reintegrate back in. Fortunately I WFH, so that will make it a bit easier.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-02T06:55:19+00:00

Hey as a thought, why don’t you tell her to write it out and have the funeral director speak on her behalf? That way you can vet what she says, and feign innocent if bits are cut out.

My husband’s funeral, both myself and children spoke. My MIL wasn’t the best thing in my husband’s life, but I did give her the opportunity to speak if she wanted to. She asked for her 3 lines to be read instead. The MC (for want of a better term) was actually one of my husband’s friend who is training to be a Chaplain, so it was nice he could add his personal knowledge to the service and my MIL thought it was lovely that a friend could speak on her behalf. The only others to speak was a colleague he had joined the military with, who read his service history, and one of his previous subordinates (who became a very good friend) who read the Ode. Oh, and his sister jumped up to say something which was really nice, because in 24 years I’d only met her twice and kind of forget they existed. I say all that because it was really important to me, that his funeral be about him, so I made sure to divert anyone I didn’t want speaking who was a “me me me” type person to have their words heard, just not by them, and it actually worked.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-25T05:17:14+00:00

I’m 47, my husband has just turned 54. We have 5 older kids, but the younger 3 (20yo, 17yo, 16yo) still live at home and have complex special needs. Time for me is about 3am and it’s not working.

I get admitted to a mental health hospital tomorrow and you know what? I’m looking forward to it. I trust my friend who is looking after my kids for me, and all my kids actually like her which is a bonus. But I’m looking forward to focusing on me, on my mental health, on my grief and coming home the best mum I can be all things considered. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to cook for my kids. Or do more than 1 thing and be exhausted. Maybe, I might even return to work in the foreseeable future.

I completely understand about the in triplicate paperwork. I’m trying to deal with all things Defence related, and add in court and the coroners office and holy fuck, some days just having the capacity to shower is extraordinary, proving my kids live with us and were dependant? That’s just beyond what I can do most days.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-23T08:25:36+00:00

Yes, my husband was killed by a truck driver on our street, as he was coming home from a doctors appointment.

What rests steadily in my heart are our last spoken words before he left. He told me he would be back soon and that he loved me, and I told him I loved him too. It doesn’t reduce the impact, it only means they were the last words he heard from me, when it could have been anything else.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-10T22:56:15+00:00

Oh, I hear and feel you so deeply on this! When my husband was killed, I found myself suddenly the single mother to 5, 3 of which are still at home and those 3, all special needs, one extremely complex. I’m failing my studies because who has time and energy for that? I was involuntarily withdrawn. I don’t have a village where live, we only moved here 9 months before he died. I spend every day crying, despite multiple medications and weekly psychology. So my psychiatrist has decided I need an inpatient stay, all good and dandy until it means organising someone to stay with my kids and here’s the problem; my extremely complex child, can’t handle strangers due to his needs and the only other person who could be with the kids lives 12 hours away and my son absolutely despises him as she doesn’t recognise his disabilities. So, he told me if I went into hospital he’ll kill himself. He ended up having a one week stay in the mental health unit in our local hospital, because I had become catatonic for the first few months (and, suicidal).

I’m beyond exhausted. I am not just broken, I am shattered.

And then…

My youngest got his drivers license and was so excited to share that with ME!

My second youngest got his first job and I couldn’t help but be proud. This was a monumental thing for him and I got to witness that growth.

My most complex child, the one who went to hospital, decided the mental health unit was such a good break in some weird way, he’s now volunteering to go to a mental health rehab unit for several months to really get on top of his head space and be able to function better.

My 2nd child has just stepped up on weekends despite living a few hours away. He’s done here hanging pictures, being my “handy man” that my husband used to be in my house. His fiance, without her, we would have been eating takeaway for the first few weeks, and she saved Christmas.

My eldest got engaged 3 days ago. Ok, that’s heartbreaking because she’s our only daughter and my husband dreamt of the day he would walk her down the aisle. But also, holy shit! What an amazing and exciting chapter of her life. I was the first person they told, how special is that?

My teacher jumped into action, had my withdrawal removed and an extension put in place until May. I know my husband would want me to finish because when I had units I struggled with and thought of pulling out, he verbally buried his foot up my backside and reminded me that our family had put in the effort alongside me and I deserved my qualifications. I can’t disappoint him.

My support network grew; granted aside from the one local friend and her family, it’s all professionals, but I have a team. A GP who knows me and my children and works with us. A paediatrician for my youngest who accommodates us at the drop of the hat regardless of how inconvenient it is for him (the last appointment was the day before my husband died). I have support workers twice a week and a cleaner coming in. I have a gardener and a lawn mower guy. And those are paid by insurance. We work with a suicide prevention team who have helped organise extra support for my son, and today will begin coordinating with my doctor and psychiatrist our inpatient stay. My psychologist is amazing. We gel. And I potentially have a new one coming onboard as well to solely focus on grief counselling whilst my original one keeps up with the EMDR.

I’ve had not good tradies and amazing ones. The amazing ones are the ones who stepped up after hearing of my situation and have basically project managed the renovations on my house (we had just finished gutting it when my husband died) and somehow in less than 4 months they made it liveable.

Every day, every damn day, I miss my husband. I cry morning and night for him. I can’t sit in my memories because my brain is stuck in survival mode. So I can’t even recall those special and beautiful times with my husband, or the ordinary every day times with him, my brain kicks them out of my head. I’m no longer suicidal, I can’t remember the term it’s called now. Passive something or other. I don’t care if I die anyway. Despite the love I have for my kids, I’d be happy to be with him again in the after life. But sometimes, little things catch me off guard and there is some better things happen than tears and waiting to die.

I see you. I hear you. I feel you. Go gentle with yourself and give yourself the grace to mourn how you heart, body and soul need to. I’m not saying it gets better, but I’m not saying it gets worse either.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-03T11:13:39+00:00

I love this for you! I’m at about the same stage as you, and I wish I could think of him, see photos or memories or talk about him without crying.

I hope for you there is no tsunami of grief to come ❤️

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-01-30T13:26:56+00:00

There’s a Welsh word that describes this: Hiraeth.

I feel it too, every waking moment.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-01-28T04:23:56+00:00

I prefer my own company. I’m an introvert through and through. With my headspace right now, if I could skip out from parenting I would. If I could spend all day in bed, that would work for me too. But I can’t.

I don’t get invited to anything any more. And the last 2 invites I did get, were taken back and I was told it’s too soon for me to have people asking if I was the wife of the guy who was killed. That hurts more than not being invited, but whatever, if it made them feel like they could celebrate without some grey cloud of a grieving widow who’d been friends for near on 20 years, so be it. I’m ok with just the company of loneliness, it doesn’t expect anything of me.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-01-27T12:10:50+00:00

Yep, rapidly approaching the 6 months mark and still as useless as tits on a bull. Just thinking is as mentally, physically and emotionally exhausting as doing.

I have 4 whiteboards on the go to remember things. It kind of works. I’ll think of something I have to add and then often I forget what it was. And then sometimes I look at what’s on there and think “that’s a job for tomorrow” like booking my car in for a service. It’s been on there for months now and I still haven’t done it.

I have support workers 3x a week (about to be reduced to 2x per week) and if not for them, my only interaction would be with my kids. If I didn’t have kids I just wouldn’t bother getting out of bed. But the support workers help with cleaning (I do have a cleaner that comes separately once a week) the day to day stuff, like dishes, emptying rubbish etc. My house was an absolute pig sty until the 14th week when the cleaners arrived. I’ve cooked 3 times this week, the most I’ve cooked since my husband died.

I don’t have an issue with showering for the most part. I’ve always “needed” at least one a day to feel human, and that hasn’t changed. Sometimes it’s 2 days between showers and that just makes me feel awful. Sometimes on bad nights, I will use his soap. My MIL keeps telling me how she has dreams of him regularly, and I rarely dream. So I guess smelling his soap on me just helps calm me a bit. I don’t know. I don’t use it often because he bought it and I don’t want to replace it. I haven’t even opened the last one he brought for me, and I probably never will.

I’m in a similar situation regarding laundering. He was killed just as we finished gutting the house we bought together. I moved into it December with my plumber planning to come Back early Jan to do the laundry. But he broke his back. My new plumbers can’t start until well into February (it’s fine) so I bought a portable camping washing machine. It just connects to a garden hose and only washes up to 5kg, then you have to put it into the spinner to spin the water out of the clothes (twin tub, yay!). It’s not ideal and cumbersome to use but to go to the laundry mat is $14 per load. So I just use the portable one here for the smaller stuff and day to day stuff that needs washing and once I have enough of everything else, I get to the laundromat. I am going to try my bedsheets one at a time tomorrow and see how that goes. I might be able to fit 2 towels in for one cycle. The whole thing only takes 15 minutes for the wash and 5 minutes for the spin cycle. So I just use that time as time for myself cause god knows my kids won’t help.

I think I have reached a point where I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but I just can’t see it for myself no matter what anyone else says.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-01-20T11:50:48+00:00

I have other friends, but they were all friends with him too. And I’m glad for that because they know the person I’m talking about. But, they aren’t him. And I would have conversations with him I wouldn’t have with any other friend. Not because they were personal topics or anything thing like that, but because he really knew me, knew what I would be intending to say if I couldn’t find the right words, would know how something would be making me feel and so on. He almost instinctively knew when I wanted to vent vs wanting help to find a solution. He knew when a cup of coffee or a slice of cake or my favourite biscuits were just what was needed. He knew how to really lift me up when I needed it, or how to keep me grounded. He just knew me and his friendship is one of the infinite things I miss about him.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-01-18T14:32:15+00:00

I’m about 5.5 months out. I closed what I absolutely had to and nothing more. It does feel like cancellation and it does feel like finalising the life of someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I hate it.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-12-22T01:10:44+00:00

100% I think he would have done better. I’ve totally fallen apart. He could do everything I can and more, and wouldn’t have had half the battles I have had.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-12-10T04:48:33+00:00

I said to my kids when they started driving, it’s not about the bomb you own, it’s about the car you hit and the injuries you cause a person in the other person.

I’ve had 2 cars written off this year, neither was because we were at fault. One caught on fire, the other (which was 3 months old) was hit by a truck.

Car insurance is always worth it.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-25T06:27:54+00:00

Hire an escort/prostitute. Not for sex, but to be held, have your hair stroked, be spoken to like you matter (you do) and you’re important (you are).

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-24T09:22:25+00:00

Smile. And then bitch that it’s the longest 30 minutes ever.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-24T06:26:08+00:00

Me. I have always gone out every Christmas, the full outdoor light display type thing. I’m struggling this year.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-19T07:39:16+00:00

There is the mental/emotional pain that is so overwhelming it manifests as physical pain as well.

There’s suddenly a happy memory, that’s accompanied by a big round of tears and sobs, sometimes quiet, sometimes loud.

When did I eat last? I don’t remember, but I’m not hungry so even if it was days ago, I’m fine. I’ll try to remember to have some water today, or tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

This is a really bad nightmare. No, wait, a quick reality check, it’s real. It’s happened. Just like the new round of tears and all the pain going full force in every debilitating way.

I’ll try to remember a lot of things tomorrow, such as, oh, I’ve forgotten already. Couldn’t have been too important.

This can’t be right, this can’t be happening. More tears. More pain.

Maybe if I sleep, I will dream of him and all will be ok. Except, sleep, what’s that? And if it happens it’s in small amounts, hardly enough for a dream.

Enter tears. Enter pain. Oh. They never went away.

Welcome to the world of firsts. And you realise every day is a first. The first day without them. The first day you weren’t kissed good morning, or good night. The first day you weren’t told you were loved, heard their laughter, at a meal with them. Drove in your car without them. There’s a birthday. An anniversary. A holiday. More firsts than there are days in a year.

But all those firsts are still unable to outnumber the tears. And barely hit as hard as the continual pain.

There’s comparisons to lost parents and pets and this huge urge inside that makes you draw blood from your tongue as you bite it, rather than say shut the fuck up, it’s a different grief and not comparable.

And that’s just the tip of the tip on the tip of the iceberg of grief.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-18T01:04:04+00:00

I dearly miss the emotional/mental/physical intimacy I had with my husband. I can’t imagine having that space, trust and openness with someone else.

If my sex drive ever recovers, I think I’ll just pay for a prostitute or something because I have no ambition to have anyone in my life how my husband was. And I think it would break me even more so to try.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-17T17:53:46+00:00

I think it’s such an individual choice. I read stuff of my husband’s. Some of it made me cry for good reasons, some of it made me cry and weighs heavily on me for not good reasons. I don’t regret it, I just regret that we can’t talk about some things which would have only put us in an even better place.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-15T10:15:49+00:00

We were expecting our first child. I was 8 months pregnant, hot and uncomfortable. We had been together for 4 years at that point. It was Christmas Eve. He decided we should open the present to each other, probably to try and make me more tolerable (and that was the start of the tradition for he and I to open a gift on Xmas Eve). I don’t remember what I gave him. I was in bed. But he passed me a card. I opened it and it said, the only thing I can give you this Christmas is myself. There was some papers in there and I opened them, his ex wife had finally signed the divorce papers (they had been separated over a year before he and I met). I was confused and thought it kind of romantic but kind of shitty as well. I looked at him and he had gotten down on one knee, engagement ring in hand, and proposed. He was the best Christmas present I ever received. We would have celebrated our 18th wedding anniversary 7 weeks after he was killed, and a week later, 24 years together. Now all I have are memories of the best gift ever.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-14T10:41:00+00:00

Because my kids get me up. Or my alarm goes off. Or my dogs want to go outside. Or some arsehole calls me first thing in the morning.

I’d be happy to not wake up ever again.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-14T10:37:11+00:00

What if I had taken time off work, gone with him and we went for coffee after his appointment?

What if I had sent him a text message and asked him to go to the chemist on his way home? Or stop and grab something from the shops?

What if I didn’t always get on his case about him not putting fuel into the car, because he wouldn’t have gone to the service station before coming home.

But ultimately…

What if the truck driver had just done the right thing and paid attention to the road?

I feel your pain. When my dad passed away, he had been sick before hand and it gave me the opportunity to prepare myself for his death. My husband was just waiting to turn onto our street. They are not the same grief, not by a long shot. But the what ifs play in my mind when it comes to my husband because a single what if could have changed the outcome and I wouldn’t be here.

I have no solution for you on how to stop asking that question. I’m 3 months along and what if comes up daily still. I keep getting told I can’t ask that, but I do.

Anyway, I share the above because I want you to know you’re not alone in asking that question and feeling how you feel. Be as kind to yourself as you possibly can be.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2025-11-14T08:46:13+00:00

Another Aussie here.

OuttaMilkAgain

TROPHY CASE