I’m a deadpan

My friends have always been quick to point out my slight monotone-ness in the past and I’ve embraced it. There’s times when I’m just not very excitable when I should be and when emotion does come over me it always appears impulsive and overly enthusiastic. I think that’s also why people sometimes forget I’m grieving. I don’t show it. But what has become apparent is my passiveness and callousness, hence the title ‘I’m a deadpan.’

I’m so invested in moving forward my social skills have taken a back seat. I’ve become more introverted and because of it, I come off as vacant and reserved. Tonight a friend of mine said something out of jest and my reaction to it was unexpected. And I started thinking more and more about his words and my response. I just don’t know how to explain it. The conversation was like two people who have seen each other at the grocery store a handful of times and finally acknowledged each other. So distant and insignificant. And the worst is I actually enjoy this person but my passiveness had become impetuous and unfortunately kills conversations.

There another side to all of this. There’s very few people I do feel comfortable talking to about my relationship with George in the final months of his life. And when my parents or other family members ask, you know the people I should feel most comfortable with, I check back into that soft cushion of my mind that protects me from all the hurt and pain and I nuzzle there until it’s over. I am isolated with this life event, but I do open up to other wids. I know they can relate, and I tend to find immediate comfort in them. Kind of like when people who drive jeeps wave at each other, and they say “it’s a jeep thing,” well finding solace for this mental agony is a widow thing.

People who I befriend now tip toe around asking me about George and my friends who I knew before being widowed are afraid of asking cause it might upset me. I feel like I’m walking an endless plank hovering above an opaque chasm. I want to see how far down, but once I jump will I fall or remain suspended in this bitter limbo of nothingness? I proudly live with the memories of my last life. I wish I could return to it, but not even in my dreams do I go back. But the emptiness I carry from it is haunting me and is affecting my current relationships. I keep all but other wids at an arms length. Lose what’s most important in your life and then you can punch a ticket to my show.

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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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