Since Reg’s death, I seemed to have lost my empathy, patience, and tolerance. I had always considered myself a caring person, and when my friends told me about their troubles, I truly cared. I couldn’t always relate, but I had empathy and would listen with a loving heart. After my husband died, however, I lost my ability to feel empathy. I felt no matter what my friends grumbled about, it just didn’t matter. Compared with the pain of losing a spouse, I felt whatever they moaned about was trivial and probably short lasting. In some part of my brain, I felt mildly bad for them, but I could not feel true empathy.
This was especially true immediately after Reg died. It was hard for me to even have a conversation after he died. As people talked, I just kept thinking, “Reg is dead” or “He should be here.” If the people with whom I conversed were suffering—such as from a death—I could engage in conversation and was interested in what they said. Otherwise, I could not pay attention and didn’t care about whatever people were saying. As they talked, what I heard was, “Blah blah blah.”
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