A pain unlike any other

More taken from "How to Help the Grieving":

Please don’t say, “Call me if you need anything.” I’ll never call you because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you some ideas:

(a) Bring food or a movie over to watch together.
(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can’t make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the
opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day.
(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I may so no at first or even for a while, but please don’t give up on me because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you’ve given up then I really will be alone.
(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples, to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations where I used to feel so comfortable.

Please don’t judge me now – or think that I’m behaving strangely. Remember I’m grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feel deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I’m
experiencing a pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before and one that can’t be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.

I should preface this by stating that if you have said 'call me if you need anything', don't be offended. I seem to be doing a good job at offending everyone around me at some point or another right now - because just about anything I say or write is something that people around me have said or done recently. I'm not picking on any of you or calling you out, I promise. I'm just talking through how some of these things are impacting me, personally. No one is in the wrong, it's just me babbling on about whatever is in my head currently. So if I am writing something that you are taking offense to... well feel free to not follow this anymore :) There I go again. Am I being too offensive? I'm sure I'm just getting started - haha! Oh and if I fly off the handle unexpectedly over something that seems mundane? Yup, it's just me, not you.
It is very true that I don't know what I need right now. So if you ask me if I need anything the answer is, 'I'm fine' and 'I don't need anything' or 'we're good'. Or I can't think of anything. Because I really and truly don't know. What I need is what no one can give me. I need him back here with us. I need to tell him things, I need to see him again. No one can give that to me. So there's nothing else left.
The guilt. I feel very guilty for a lot of things going on - I don't feel like I have a right to be happy or have fun or celebrate things because there's a huge part of me that's missing. Where once I was whole, now I am broken and incomplete. And when I do find myself happy or having fun I almost immediately am reminded that he's gone and the feeling quickly fades to sorrow and sadness. I feel guilty that we fought a lot that week. That I wasn't a better wife. That I wasn't able to help him more. That I was too hard on him a lot of the time. That he possibly died not feeling fully loved by me. I feel guilt on an ongoing basis right now.
I am afraid - I am afraid of moving on with my life without him. I'm afraid of all that is to come without him here. I'm afraid for our kids and what their future will be like without him.
Over 6 weeks in and I think I'm finally starting to enter more of the 'angry' part of grief. Deep rage is a very appropriate way of putting it. I'm angry that he's gone. That it happened so fast without any chance for goodbyes or I love you's. That the person I was supposed to grow old with left so young and there is so much unsaid and undone between us. That his kids have now been cheated of a life with their father. To grow up with so few memories of him, and live without him being at all of their major life events. Graduations, weddings, heck even first lost teeth. They will have all that without him. That they will come to know his picture on a wall better than they were able to know him as a person. Our children deserved better than that. I'm angry that on Easter he was not with us, but instead decided to leave and go for a ride. Why didn't he stay home with his family? I'm angry that I still don't know some details of his death. I'm upset that while some people may be trying to protect me from hurt or pain, they are keeping things from me about his death, which really bothers me. Possibly not realizing that the not knowing is causing me more pain than anyone can imagine. The not knowing is much much worse for me - much more painful than any truth I could know. And I don't need to be protected. I'm not a glass statue. I will be OK with whatever I learn. I'm angry that I now need the help of others to get through this life, even if just temporarily. If I need to go anywhere alone, I need to find a sitter or family to take the kids. If I want some down time to myself, I need help. If I want to do any home improvement projects beyond the basics, I'll need someone to come in and help. Things that used to be just shared between us and easy to accomplish are now impossibly difficult most days. And I'm not the kind of person that likes to rely on the help of others so much of the time.  I'm angry that forever turned out to by just shy of 7 years (well 13 total).
Above all I'm angry that things like this happen to anyone at all, not just me. It's not fair. And I know life isn't fair, but this is one event I will never be able to make sense of or comprehend. It's far too senseless for my brain to wrap around.