Personal Narrative: Facial Crying

My significant other and I were supposed to meet his mother for dinner at an unfamiliar restaurant neither of us had been to. I drove. I missed the restaurant twice. I never sped, much less drove at the posted speed limit because I was trying to find the restaurant. His mother asked if I was driving despite seeing me step out of the driver’s side of the vehicle. His mother repeatedly told me to stop speeding. Dinner was awkward. She spoke ill of the server multiple times during the meal. After the meal, his mother told me to stop speeding again, multiple times. I didn’t say anything to her.

Facial flushing. Heart pounding. Difficult to breathe. Jaw clenching. Throat tightening (difficult to speak). Crying. Headache. Shaking.

I was angry and

I felt a lot of guilt. I felt selfish. I was overwhelmingly sad. I felt like a huge part of my life just disappeared. A lot of regrets came crashing on me and it all seemed so surreal. Everything felt overwhelming to me.

I’ve never had anyone close to me die, much less someone so young (he was only a few years older than me). I ended up reaching out to a childhood friend of his, who was struck as hard by the loss as I was. We talked and shared memories, and continue to do so now. I spent a lot of time looking through my friend’s Facebook wall, pictures, Tumblr posts, and chat logs. I reread letters and messages he sent to me. Sometimes I sat on Facebook and just stared. I listened to songs on repeat. I stayed up late a couple nights doing these things.

Talking with the friend has been the most effective. He’s been very helpful as far as keeping things in perspective and assuaging a lot of the guilt and selfishness I felt and continue to feel. Looking at the Facebook wall and other social media has been hit and miss. Sometimes I found something funny and it was good; sometimes it was embarrassing to read my own words; and sometimes it just made me more sad. Reading the chat logs has been a similar experience, so it’s hard to judge the efficacy as a coping mechanism. For the most part they just seem to enable wallowing, which isn’t helpful. Listening to songs on repeat did clear my thoughts, but I think it also accomplished a similar kind of stasis that I want to