DH committed suicide on Saturday, rang Samaritans, not helped.

[RubbishMantra]

Anyone there? I 'm a bit done in. We'd been married less than 2 years. I got him a dollar bill folded into an origami carp for our 1st anniversary. He hanged himself. We didn't have DCs, but we have 2 beautiful cats. Sister flying in tomorrow. I don't know how he could leave me and our 2 little lads (cats)

Gah, snotty stuff in stomach is never good. I think lemon in hottish water helps with that.

Admin is shit at the best of times, and this is far from that, so I feel for you, I really do.

Online shopping rocks! Despite name on the account. You can always change it - it's still your name now too - up to you. Really, there is no wrong for you at this stage - you do what you need to in order to get by.

(((hugs))) - hope you "feel" some of these, despite the 10,500 miles they travel to you

I'm really, really worried about you, Mantra. Please trust me when I say that getting drunk won't take the pain away. It will just numb it for a bit and then make you feel much, much worse. Alcohol bites into your ability to cope and corrodes it. And you already have so very much to bear.

Is there anyone you can call to come and be with you? I wish we could all sit with you in real life and hold your hand. Please try to eat something, even if it's just a bit of toast and marmite. Please try to go outside and just look at the plants and the sky and the earth and the whole beautiful, terrifying, glorious, cruel world around us.

You held my hand when my cat died and I felt absolutely bereft. You did that for a complete stranger on the internet. You're a wonderful, lovely person with so much to offer. Please don't forget that.

You might have hit the wall on the booze front, there's only so much your system can take.

It might be an idea to stop the drinking for today.

This just hopped up in my newsfeed on FB. This lady is a year on from where you are.
It may be too soon or too wrong for you to read it, but it may be some comfort as well. Or not. I don't know - I'll leave it to you to decide whether or not to read/listen. www.mamamia.com.au/wellbeing/robin-bailey-husband-2/

Thank you for posting that, Thumb. I think it's something that we ought all to read.

I wouldn't worry too much about the admin side of things, Mantra. There may be some things which are more time-dependent than others but even big organisations are surprisingly laid back when dealing with people who have been bereaved. (I suppose they're made up of individual people after all.)

You may also have a low tolerance for stress and tasks at the moment. You've pretty well got to keep the cats fed and watered but on other things I would, from experience, give yourself a daily allowance of things to be tackled - even one thing done is fine - and if anyone asks why you haven't done X or Y you can be completely open about it and say 'I wasn't able to cope with that - I'd reached my limit of things I could do that day'. You're then perfectly allowed to feel relief that something else has been crossed off the list and go to watch some bad movies for the rest of the day or have a snooze with the cats.

Have friends or relatives been keeping in touch?

Hope you're managing to keep some sort of nosh down, even if it's only milk.

Sitting here picking my nose. DH would do that. Once I saw him with his finger near his nose. "Are you picking your nose", I said. "No", said DH, looking pleased, "I've already got one." I asked him if he was going to shove the bogie he had on the end of his finger back up his nostril, because I wondered why his hand was still hovering around his nose.

Apparently all men do it (and I expect a good percentage of women except they're all too cowardly prim to admit it!)
He was probably waiting for you to look away so he could eat it.

I once told him I may have tried a bogie of my own. He was very upfront about the picking, rolling and flicking, but said he didn't like to eat them.

I love a good nose-pick. I was once so proud of a huge specimen of mine that I took a photograph of it for him. It was an inch long. All crispy, not squishy at all.

I still have a vivid (and pretty slightly nauseating) memory of a boy at junior school pulling about 3" of bogey out of his nose one day in assembly. I don't know what he did with it (and actually can't think about it).

I can deal with seeing poo, wee and blood at work but snot and phlegm are my line in the sand.

Once I had to pull one of hairs out of asbos bum hole.

Snot and phlegm, yeuch. I do admire a crispy and well formed bogie.

a song by Half Man Half Biscuit, about wiping snot on the arm of someone's chair.

When I was 8, my DB age 5 did a phlegm on the road and shrieked It looks JUST like a FOETUS. I was dreadfully sick all the way to school. 40 years on, all the little beast (married, 3 kidz, own business) has to do is to creep up and hiss the F word for me to flee incontinent.

Does everyone have phlegm memories of such resonance and power relating to their loved ones? I hope you're fond of yours M, I am, even though typing this I'm gagging.

Everyone is going to tell you to stop drinking because it will only make it worse, and they're right. But a couple of glasses of wine won't kill you. Try and put them off until you've done 1 admin task. Start drinking half an hour later in the day every day.

Fluffy - I can't do poo either. Blood, no problem; urine's just about bearable - but not the rest. We used to get foetal cord samples in sometimes, but once we got a faecal sample in because someone had spelt it wrong (foecal) and it got sent to our lab instead of the correct one - luckily no one opened it!
I had microbiologist friends - I couldn't do their job. Especially not the "shits and spits" bench.

If anyone tells me to stop drinking, I'll come round and wipe snot on them. In an appreciative and loving way of course. Phlegmy love.

Thank the bejeezus I married a man who I could proudly show a photograph of The Best Bogey Ever to.

Definitely.

I've just thought of the perfect option for you - limoncello. It has the lemon to cut through the snot in your stomach, but also the alcohol. And you only need to sip it otherwise it melts your eyes.

And he would say urine, like yawww-Rine, because it made me laff.

OTOH you'd get to meet asbo and he could pretend to be a quiet, shy cat like he did when we went to see him.

I've never felt this cold in my life. He stepped off a box, but nothing had been kicked over, so no struggling. One of the most painless ways of killing the body, apparently. Lots of ashes, according to the funeral directors. They said they were surprised at how much there were. I like their honesty. He was 6 foot, but very slender. A lot of beingness in that body, maybe that's why so many ashes.

Fluffy I reckon ASBO enjoys a few relaxing cans of Tennants after a hard day's menacing. Mr C is a slag for cider - I ascribe this to his days as a gentleman of the road.

Don't worry M, no lecturing. Unless Little M hits the Breezers and comes home with an unsuitable lady cat who is an internet celeb pet/reality star or other unladylike abomination.

Put a blanket on. Do it now and there will be company here when you get back.

Lots of ashes is a comfort, somehow. isn't it.

Blanket will help - cold=adrenalin response.

Have you managed to eat anything?

Does mr c really drink cider? my mum used to give cider to her parents dog when she wanted some alone time with her bf but still lived at home.

Dgrandparents used to go out for the evening saying "that must have been a really good walk you took the dog on" as he snored under the radiogram.

Dog lived to a good age so it didn't do him any harm as far as we know.

Hooting, Fluffy. Utterly excellent. Mr C is served a saucer of Bulmers at Xmas when Downton starts. I daren't give him any more, it's inhaled, gone. Gets trad Boxing Day hangover a bit.