1972: I was in Vietnam when I first heard a very melodic song called Alone again, naturally. Despite the nice melody, it was actually a depressing song about suicide. This blog is not about suicide; I am just riffing off of the title and final line of the song… Alone again, naturally.
Someone asked me today how I was doing. The reflexive response is of course, “fine.” I guess I am sort of fine. I am not wallowing in despair. I am functioning. But there’s a deeper answer, a more honest answer; I am alone.
Men — in general — deal with grief, loss, or tragedy in ways that are very different from women. Women rally around one another. They rally to the side of their suffering sisters. They bring flowers, send cards, text-chain scriptures, and encourage one another. They show up and stay. It is not that men care less than women, they’re just more awkward about how they express their care. A man expressing care might look like a text that asks, “you good?”
Which brings me back to Alone again, naturally.
It has been a pretty emotionally traumatic week, and the main emotion I have experienced is a sense of feeling alone. I have been surrounded by family, yet I felt alone most of the time. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve felt it. Part of that is the result of the way I tend to deal with loss; I do things. I can’t just sit and feel, I have to do. I start a project, or finish one. I make to-do lists and start checking off things long before those around me are prepared to move. As a result I unintentionally isolate myself when I most need community and family.
Alone again, naturally.