It will soon be 5 years that my soulmate died in my arms at 52 from the beast called GBM (deadly brain tumor) after 2 years of fighting to stay with us a little longer.  Reading the posts of so many of you new to this site reminds me that no so long ago I was you:  I wanted to die; I cried from morning to night; did not go out; angry that the world could dare continue without my love with me; could not eat ; could not sleep for almost a year; dreaming of him every single night.  I merely existed.  My daughter and close friends would later say that my normally shinny eyes had gone dead, no life in them.  One day I was so weak in bed I thought I could just lay there and die.  I then realized that implied that someone would eventually find me.  That someone would probably be my daughter - a young mother at the time.  That would for sure affect her and not in a positive way.  Then I thought well maybe a paramedic would find me.  Again, the same thought:  not a pretty sight it would be I guessed.  During my husband's illness I had stickers next to my bedside table, on the mirror in the bathroom, everywhere I could lay eyes of the little blue engine the one that says, I think I can, I think I can.  It motivated me to see him through his disease.  Now I took that message for myself.  I think I can I think I can.  And so I started, small steps ever so small:  getting out of bed. Victory!  Now a shower, now brushing teeth.  Yes I did it without crying one minute at a time.  I was worse than an AA or Al Anon who at least aim for one day at a time!  One day was too much for me!!!  Today after almost 5 years, I gained back 20 of the 25 pounds I had lost, I laugh, I have come to learn to love life again. BUT, I am not totally healed, nor will I ever be.  Losing the one we love is like a big wound on our flesh.  In time the wound closes up, but then you accidentally scratch it and it bleeds again.  This time the scab grows a bit thicker and thicker with time.  When it finally does fall off, you are left with a scar.  We will always have that scar.  Sometimes it will itch and we will scratch and it will hurt.  But do believe me slowly, very slowly it will hurt a little less and less.  Recently I paid a visit to the counselor my husband had been seeing during his disease for his depression (he finally had realized his disease was incurable).  We talked.  The end result, she said I was doing as well as one can expect but that I was a little slow in recovering in many aspects - fear of losing again, constant need to leave my affairs in order in case I die - but she felt I was on the right track.  For others it goes faster, for others like myself, it takes time.  It's ok.  BUT DO NOT GIVE UP!  Remember, I think I can, I think I can.  Your loved one would not be happy to see/know that you are wasting away this precious gift called life.  Big hugs to all of you - you are not alone - Driftersoul