Alone in a crowd

 ...or why I turned down invites to celebratory events and have been labeled as antisocial.

One of the first times I realized that even in a happy crowd, as a Widow, I felt completely isolated and uncomfortable. I went to photograph a wedding as an extra. They thought the activity would be fun for me. It was, until it wasn't. I felt extremely alone in a crowd.

Rich and I used to be tied at the hips and go to family reunions and gatherings. After his stroke, he didn't want to go anywhere, but asked me to go instead. I shared everything with him. How was your day? How was your workout? I was his eyes and ears for walks in the forest and other events.

I do still go to CrossFit and work out. But the atmosphere for me has changed. The others haven't changed, I've changed.

Some of the ladies who come do nothing but talk about their outings and events they have gone to. Lots of socialization with others. I get that, it was the same before Rich died. I just sort of laughed and would come home to care for Rich and tell him all about it. We'd chuckle together. All we needed was each other, right?

The CrossFit open competition starts this week at the end of February. Local gyms pay $20 and get picked on teams who compete at their own gyms. It is a fun competition and I've done it. You score each workout according to your age category and at the end of the games you find out 'how you compare to others in your age group'.

I've done well in years past, but that isn't the point now.

I don't care. I don't want to be in the gym with a huge crowd of family, onlookers, competitors, and the noise.

It literally makes me feel extremely ALONE. As if I am nothing but a ghost experiencing a loss of myself. The old me would have been cheering others on, helping out, jumping up and down, and joining in. Not this me. Not right now. 

Even on regular days now, I feel disconnected from everyone else. The new ladies think I am standoffish. They kept nagging me along with the coach --- they have been doing this each workout for the past few weeks. 

SIGN UP VAL COME ON, IT WILL BE FUN! Yep, they yelled, then the one loud mouth asked me WHY NOT? When I shook my head.

"I don't do crowds right now." I stared hard at her. "I'm still...mourning." I fluttered my hands.

"I just can't." 

I nearly walked out of the gym then when the silence hit. You could have heard a pony tail band drop.

The looks I got the rest of that hour were ones of side glances. It was if I'd introduced them to the Black Plague. Did I have a dark cloud hanging over me? 

Two other ladies in the gym did come up quietly and tell me they completely understood where I was coming from and that it was fine with them. One is Pat who I hike with, and the other is part of our monthly threesome that get together once a month for coffee and chat about grand kids and whatnot.

The coach who used to be a really fine friend never uttered a word. Never said a thing. Through the last few years of Rich's life she was always there with a word of support. 

Rich died. He has been erased by my casual friends. It is if he never existed. 

That's a cold hard truth that widows suffer.

No one asks, they go on. 

I feel like I am not on the same plane of time or space with them. I live in a slightly skewed dimension.

But he is not erased and my two friends and I get together every once in a while and tell stories about our spouses and laugh and they keep me afloat.

I still go to the gym. I still work out. The ghost of me works out. But some days I seriously question the joy of it.

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