Dear introverts, I am sorry I haven’t understood you. I had no idea how overwhelming all the people are to you. It’s ok for you to not come, leave early, sit by yourself, and fantasize about killing loud talkers like myself. Your quiet and gentle spirits, the way you can say so much by not saying anything, and your amazing listening skills are such treasured gifts.
The loud talking extroverts
That was my post last year. I only post for those who are recently bereaved. Because I get it. No, I don’t get what you’re going through or know what you feel like or anything like that nonsense. But I get how uncomfortable you are in places that used to be home. Including your actually home. Because you don’t feel like yourself or look like yourself. You don’t remember things like yourself or tolerate things like yourself. You’ve basically left and when you left yourself , you left this weird alien person in your place.
This person is often worthless and no help to you. They are completely out of touch and hold your head under a foggy fountain most of the time. This person loses everything, can’t remember anything. Feels irritated by things that you love and feels frustrated with the feeling of love at all.
You want to be ok but this person thinks ok stands for one knead. And that doesn’t make sense because nothing about this person makes sense to you.
She can’t sleep, can’t plan things, can’t do math, can’t keep track of anything . She’s forgotten how to do things you are good at. What’s been natural to you your whole life- you don’t know how to start anymore.
When I was this person full- time, I actually thought I was becoming another person who was terribly introverted even though God made me extroverted from birth. I’m certain I introduced myself to the delivery room and started sharing my feelings right there.
I didn’t realize that this person was here to help me recover from trauma and that cooking and field trip slips are not necessities when you’ve been traumatized. I didn’t realize I needed a little introvert side to guard my heart in the mine field that just IS public grieving.
This person has cut back to part time duty and I hope she will one day only work PRN. That’s just when I need her. When she takes over now, I know I need her healing perspective. I would try to make myself charge all the time and she gives me permission to rest and retreat. To save it for the times that a charging spirit will be mandatory.
Sometimes when your daughter lives in heaven, you just can’t say yes to everything you used to. She helps me say No when avoiding is best. And she’s not that crazy screaming lady either. She’s the opposite actually. She’s wise and thoughtful. She’s insightful. Always calculating the cost. Weighing the energy versus the reward.
She protects me from myself . That loud mouth extrovert that remains at my core. Because the truth is for me that grief is that great exaggerator. And that’s wonderful in some respects and too much in others.
So God designed the grief experience to balance us and refine us. When we are complete, we will see what importance this season had on our evolution of Beauty and Grace.
But we’re not yet complete, we budding masterpieces, so we’ll be tempted to believe that we have even lost ourselves . But we have not. We’re only getting richer layers and deeper margins.
We are just as we should be. A work in progress. Me and the many faces of grief. There’s a good chance that Mona Lisa herself was grieving and not even she knew who she was or what she was thinking.