Dealing With Broken Feelings About Who You Used to Be

When your natural state of being suddenly feels irreverent.

Many who’ve followed my writing on Medium the last few years could probably fill you in on a few things.

I used to be funny.

I used to be VERY opinionated.

I used to date. Especially if I could dig a humorous story out of a crappy date.

And one more time for the people in the back…I used to be funny.

Witty, sarcastic, and bubbly.

Those traits were once my natural state of being. However, after losing my son the core of my personality changed.

Of course, I’m still funny. I can’t just ignore who I’ve been for decades. But it feels unnatural and slightly abrasive now. Almost as if I don’t deserve to live in amusement anymore.

Together, my son and I were the funniest people in our small world. We had more inside jokes and secret glances than anyone I know.

He and I thoroughly understood each other's humor. Now, it almost feels illegal to have fun without him.

What’s worse is that I feel inappropriate incorporating humor into my writing but I also can’t help it because it’s who I am.

It’s a peculiar tug-of-war.

The first time I wrote something remotely funny after he died I was nervous as hell to hit the ‘publish’ button, assuming my readers’ first thoughts would be, “How dare she crack a joke while sad.”

Grieving felt like it should be a solemn act carried out on top of an isolated mountain in a monestary.

I should be banished there for years attempting to ‘monk’ myself back to a human before being allowed to rejoin society.

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Most days it feels wrong to want to live a full life again, become something amazing, and laugh as much as I want to.

They say, “That’s what he would want for you.” But would he? Or is he sitting on a cloud somewhere secretly hoping I never move on so that I’ll never forget him? Or stop talking to him. Or find happiness without him.

The truth is that it only took a couple of months before I began twisting my experiences with death and grief into little nuggets of wit.

And guess what? With every tidbit of humor I write, my first instinct is still to text my son and say, “Yo bud, you have to read this story. It’s so funny and you’ll totally get it.”

I'd like to believe he does read it and he does get it.

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For more than a year now, I’ve been working through grief and loss on the largest independent publishing platform in the world. Yet I’m tagged by the same platform as a top writer in humor.

Go figure.

For me, and hopefully, for you, the teachable moment here is that we are who we have been all along, even if we’re totally broken now.

The original version of you is still in there somewhere. She’s just unmistakably different. She’s critically marred but will never be completely replaced.

A broken plate is still functional with a few dabs of super glue.

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Do you ever feel like your previous natural state has vanished? Do you struggle with who you are now compared to who you wish you still were?

How have you tried working toward getting back to some semblance of YOU?