Introversion

After almost four years of widowhood, I’m finally feeling more emotionally in control. If someone would have told me before Ray died that widowhood is a terrible thing, I wouldn’t have believed them. I just thought, well, if Ray died, I’d be sad for a while and then everything would be back to normal after a while.

I didn’t realize in that losing a spouse also meant losing me and the journey from the moment of Ray’s death to almost four years later is an awful, painful, and difficult one. I haven’t screamed, “I hate my life” in a long time. I had some emotional breakdowns around Christmas where I cry and pound the table and beg Ray to figure out a way I can join him.

But I’m stuck here until it’s my time to go. And that’s another strange thing about widowhood. I’m not suicidal, but I have no desire to push my life out further than it needs to go. That means if I get cancer, so what? I’m not going to try to do any lifesaving treatment if it’s bad. Plus, I can’t afford treatment anyway, because my medical insurance is next to worthless.

I know I’m coming to a place of reconciliation of being a widow in that I can now go to places where Ray and I have gone and built memories and not cry. For example, going to the Timberwolves game the other night was not a big deal emotionally for me. I was there five years ago with Ray and going back didn’t bring up any unbearable grief. Less than a year ago, I would have been crying like a baby when I entered the Target Center.

Maybe my grappling with widowhood is difficult because I’m an introvert. Introverts don’t dislike people or are shy, but we don’t get our energy from people. In fact, being with people can drain us. It’s kind of like running a race when we go to a party; we’re exhausted by the time it’s over.

So I don’t have a lot of friends to hang out with like an extrovert would have. Ray was my friend. My best friend. And since I’m an introvert I place a strong value of having very intense friendships, which mean I have very few. And I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older, I don’t work that hard to make new friends.

Introverts are not comfortable with social babble and small talk. They don’t like being in large groups of people. They hate being the center of attention. And because of those characteristics, I have a difficult time making friends.

My mother, who was about as extroverted as I am introverted, never understood that. I was forced into all kinds of social situations as a child. “What’s wrong with you?” she would ask me. “Why can’t you make friends?” And then coerce me into going to birthday parties, nursery school, and other situations, while all I wanted was to stay home and read or work on an art project by myself.

I’ve never been the type of woman who always had to do something a “friend.” I don’t have to go shopping with friends, or go out with friends, or go to the bathroom with friends. If I wanted to do something, I’d just do it. Alone.

Oh, gosh, I hate talking on the phone! Text messaging was invented for me! I’m almost at a point that I rarely talk on the phone ever! Email me, text me, or put something up on Facebook, and then I’ll respond.

However, I did realize I needed to share my experiences with others and also share their widow/widower experiences, and I joined a grief group. And some of them became my friends. And I think I got what I needed to sort through the agony and start putting one foot ahead of another.

My favorite kind of day doesn’t include people. For example, for me, today has been the perfect Sunday.

I got up at 6:00 am and went to workout. I slap on my iPod and listen to music while working up a sweat. I don’t talk to anyone except a “good morning” to the attendant. While I’m sweating, my thoughts go inward. If I have a problem, like Joe and I having an argument before I went to workout that morning, I’ll flip it around in my brain until I reach a comfort level with it. So my brain is worked and stretched, just like my body.

I took a hot shower after getting home. Joe fixed breakfast while I read the paper. Then I worked with some of my photographs, did some reading, and will go through books for donation to Goodwill. Then I will go out with my son and grandsons this evening to celebrate the younger one’s birthday.

So then I get my people contact in spite of spending most of my day in introvert bliss.

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You describe introvertedness very well! I love texting too… so much more than talking on the phone! It’s amazing how our hearts heal over time. I remember when mom died (maybe I wrote this to you before), I felt I would never laugh again. Now, 12 years later, she comes into my mind with warm memories but never pain.

(Not that I’m comparing my relationship with my mom to yours with Ray, of course).

I always hated hearing someone say to another person, ‘You’re too quiet.’ Just let someone be how they are is what I say! Glad you had a wonderful Sunday of you. 🙂

This could describe me. I am an introvert, married to my best friend, and he is an extrovert.

January 29, 2012

“I’m an introvert. Introverts don’t dislike people or are shy, but we don’t get our energy from people. In fact, being with people can drain us. It’s kind of like running a race when we go to a party; we’re exhausted by the time it’s over”. I’ve never heard anyone describe it so well. It can be very hard.

January 29, 2012

I am the same way. It’s so hard to find a balance between accepting the introvert that we are, and trying to push ourselves to socialize.

January 29, 2012

So much of the way you describe yourself also describes my mother…she’s around people at work (she’s a nurse) but she doesn’t have friends. She goes to Bingo a few times a year with co-workers, but other than that, her social interaction is with family, and online with old friends. She found great comfort in a grief support group for maybe a year after my step-dad died.

January 29, 2012

I’m basically an introvert, but I’m also a good public speaker and open mic performer. It’s a weird mixture — I can take only so much of being “on”. My mother was extroverted and wanted me to be a social butterfly, which I couldn’t stand. In that respect I was much more like my father.

January 30, 2012

Gosh…time sure flies. When you mentioned 4 years without Ray, I realised that I’ve been reading you way before that when Ray was still around. I think I am 50/50 introvert/extrovert. With or without friends, I am okay and I am comfortable with that.

January 30, 2012

i can so relate. but, i love to talk on the phone and i like being alone. i get people contact from my daughter and her family. i don’t talk much. i can go somewhere and there’s a twinge in my heart when i remember raymond and i being there. there’s rarely any tears anymore. just heart twinges and remembering. i’m making new memories and i’m doing okay being a widow. i find i like being alone in the house with my dog but, i’d give anything to have raymond back. couldn’t do a grief group. just don’t need or want that kind of contact. raymond’s been gone nearly 4 years. take care,

February 5, 2012

I think you are so strong! I am surprised you haven’t remarried. You are a catch. You’re so strong.