Friday, October 23, 2009

Grieving as an Introvert

I was talking with a patient yesterday about being an introvert. I was trying to get him to see that being an introvert was a good thing and that he should honor it and embrace it. Too often, extrovert friends and partners try to convince us that opening up to all the social contact and talk will make us happier.

Two years ago I started exploring the whole issue of being an introvert. It was at least 15 years ago that I discovered I was an introvert. I always thought I was just shy. But being an introvert is not just about being shy. It's a statement of where one gets their energy from. Introverts from being alone, extroverts from being with people. For the best description of being an introvert, see "Caring for your Introvert" by Jonathan Rauch,http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200303/rauch. When I came upon this article, I was trying to figure out why I had a pattern of joining groups and then quitting them after a short period of time. Over and over I would join book clubs, church groups, women's groups, you name it, only to get bored or find something else I didn't like about it, and quit. I thought there must be something wrong with me.

What was wrong was that I didn't like spending my free time with people. I loved being by myself. There wasn't enough time in the day for me to spend at home doing the things I love to do. Even though these groups occured only monthly or less, it was still more than I wanted to do. Once I learned to accept that, I was so much happier. There are friends that I still love to have an in depth conversation with, but I hate chit chat. It exhausts me.

Since I spend all day with people, talking and listening to them. When I get home I am exhausted and want nothing more to spend it quietly.

So when my husband died I retreated even more. I only wanted to be with my sons and parents. I talked to my best friends by phone and email. But I didn't want to see anyone else. It's been like that for the last 11 months. Every now and then I go out with a friend, friends who understand I like to be alone. I still do fun things. But mostly alone or with my family. My creative outlet is paper crafts, that I can do alone. My physical outlet is walking my dog, again alone.

It may sound selfish, but it's restorative to me. It helped me process my grief in a way only an introspective person can. I loved my time alone. I didn't need to talk about what happened over and over. I saved that for my grief counselor. Most people didn't want to hear about it anyway. They wanted to talk. They wanted to offer advice. They wanted to talk about themselves.

The most unbelievable thing happened the night he died. I had just awaken from a nap since we had been up the night before. The door bell rang and it was two teachers from my son's school. I didn't know them and they didn't call first. Since I was so numb I let them in and they stayed for quite a while. I asked them if they knew my husband and they said no they hadn't. They wanted to see Gregg but he was napping. On and on they stayed until I finally indicated I was tired. While most people would have relished the attention, I wasn't one of them. So extroverts of the world, don't assume your visits is welcome. Call before you come over. Send a note or and email. We'll let you know when we are ready.

Introverts of the world, let yourselves be who you are. Honor and celebrate your uniqueness. Don't cave into the extroverts. If you don't want to party, don't. If you need to leave early, go ahead. If you are not a joiner, don't join. Taking care of yourself is not selfish. Surround yourself with friends who understand you. Wallow in your alone time. Have fun.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Moving On

It's true. I am 11 months and 2 days a widow. The first time I said the word "widow" outloud last February, the words choked in my throat and I cried. Wasn't I too young to be a widow. I thought widows were elderly women. I had only met a couple of young widows and I can't even remember who they are. I recall seeing the widows of 9/11 on TV, and thinking how dreadful. But they were only glimpses of their sad lives broadcast nationwide.

I am approaching the one year mark and I am actually a bit terrified of that anniversary. All those memories! At least I am going away for the anniversary. I don't want to be here during that time.

I decided that this past year is really quite remarkable and has an interesting story. I need to write it down somewhere, so I chose this blog. I want to share this with you and even if no one reads it, I will have said it out loud.