This crazy train


My spirit animal today must be Ozzy Osbourne because I’ve heard crazy train on three different occasions. When George was in high school he was really into Black Sabbath and when Ozzy came out as a solo artist he liked him as well. I watched this Ozzy documentary on Showtime and started really getting into him and George was so excited to revisit the Blizzard of Ozz and Diary of a Madman with me. I’m pretty sure he was planning on buying me those Tshirts off some vintage online stores because we talked about it up until he was admitted to the hospital on November 15th. Ozzy I accept you as my spirit animal in addition to the lucky cat.

There’s something that comes with grief and that’s social anxiety. Today I mailed out the death certificate to George’s work and while I was at the post office a man complimented me on my eyes. At the time I wasn’t aware he was talking to me until I looked up and a older woman nodded at me. I said thank you but quickly scurried away. I feel so broken on the inside and I think it’s visible on the outside. Im weak and vulnerable and just really keep to my own business. I barely make eye contact with anyone except those I feel comfortable with.

All day I’ve been worrying about a lacrosse clinic I’m doing tomorrow and Sunday up in Boston area. Seeing other coaches who know I was married this year may not know George has died. Ive been thinking about all the questions I’ll get about both the wedding and his death. Every day I build myself up right when I wake, because each day is a challenge. Any little comment that pulls at my soul can destroy me like wind to a house of cards. I’m going to be the only widow there, and I’m making myself mad with worry. The worst part is if I get upset I would call George and he would calm my nerves. But I don’t have him to sooth me. I don’t have him to go home to after a long weekend of recruiting.  I miss hearing about his adventures when I go away for a weekend. He would tell me, “Julia, who cares about them. Worry about yourself because you’re better anyway.” Then he would give me a big kiss and hold my hand. I love him and miss him. Ozzy will see me through this crazy train.


About J.

Fitness professional, fitness & nutrition writer, widowed at 28. Writing about getting through grief through self-care, physical activity, and the ​constant feeling of being uncomfortable.
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