Loss & Isolation Releases a Torrential River of Voice

Life lesson: Open the floodgates more frequently.

My GP (grief partner) received a call a few days ago, along with an invitation to meet with an old friend for coffee. He wasn’t really her friend, he was more her late husband’s friend. His wife had passed away about the same time as my GP’s husband. Being a kind woman, she said maybe, then decided it could be an excuse to get out of the house and be with another person.

Being herd animals, we have multiple driving forces to herd up and be with others.

So she accepted his invitation. She said he talked nonstop for two hours. She reported that she said two words in all of that time, and being compassionate, the two words she spoke were not “shut up.” She said he droned on and on about things and people she did not know nor care to know. She escaped with her ears intact, however, vowing never to return.

What self-destructive behavior this man exhibited, and sadly, he appeared to have no awareness of such. His loss and aloneness had compressed like a spring, ready to launch at the slightest provocation. My GP said it was like a dam had been breached, the water a raging river of words, tumbling to get out, and that the content was not important.

This unpleasant encounter brought to mind my necessity to unload after I had been alone for a period of time, of finding a victim, any person who was unaware and available. I was talking too fast and too extensively. I wasn’t picking up cues to be quiet. I was not listening. My grief had blinded me. A torrential river had damned up, straining to break free.

Another time, I heard my voice telling the story of how I ended up with this dog. How my spouse and I ended up with a dog to begin with. Stories I had told before. My quiet stream had become a torrent.

In one sense, this is a positive sign of re-entering life. There is still numbness and tunnel vision, but I feel some emergence from my cocoon of protectiveness. I hope I am not engulfing those I meet or interact with, by smothering them with a blanket of endless voice.

As part of my overall plan to keep from driving my unsuspecting targets away, I have attempted to:

• Get out of the house more. I know it takes great effort and courage, but I do it.as often as I can

• Go to safe locations where like-minded people have gathered, such as senior citizen centers.

• Put a rubber band or a string on my wrist and feel it periodically to remind myself to stop my voice and allow others time for theirs.

• Make a plan to periodically unload the flood that is building inside.

• Thank my victim for listening.

Hopefully you can self-correct before driving others away. We desperately need our others, our friends and family.

Let me know how you are doing. I care

Sincerely,

Lynn Brooke.

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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau