Lost Laughter
One of the biggest parts of my dad dying, that I have told very few people, is that I am saddest when I am happiest. It’s hard for me to genuinely enjoy something because all I’m thinking about how much my dad would enjoy it. When I see good movies, interesting plays, something funny on the street, read something fascinating, listen to new music, everything. The joy is very quickly taken away and replaced with “ I wish my dad was here so I could share this with him.” For the past 7 years almost every time I feel genuinely happy, it only lasts so long. I remember the first time I laughed and quickly was hit with immense sadness. It was a few months after he died, my mom took us to a play our friend was in. I let myself laugh for the first time since he died and quickly the feeling of joy was taken away. Since then I can recount multiple times when I’ve had the same feelings. In return for this pattern, I have pretty much stopped letting myself feel happy about things. I am duller, I am quieter, I don’t try to make you laugh, I don’t try to make myself laugh. I’m self-conscious about laughing. I am insecure and think my laugh sounds weird. I don’t remember what my laugh actually sounds like, it’s been replaced by a fake laugh. I don’t want to let myself have a good time for the fear that it will only last a few fleeting moments. Please don’t try to tell me he wants me to be happy, and he wants me to enjoy things, I know he does. But, I can’t help shutting myself down, it’s automatic at this point. It’s something I really can’t control. This summer I saw one of his favorite bands, Spoon. I enjoyed their music so much, I had to go to the bathroom and cry because I wanted to see them with him. I stopped being interested in photography because it was supposed to be something we did together. I’m scared to be around his friends and see how much fun they have together because I want to see him have fun with them. I lost the man who made me laugh more than anyone, whose sense of humor I understand, and who shaped my interest in comedy. I very recently started to let myself laugh out loud while watching comedy ( something I obsessively do), and it is an extremely uncomfortable feeling for me. I don’t like hearing my laugh because I never know if it’s genuine or not. I used to be in love with the thought of making people laugh and when I found people who held the same sense of humor as me I would feel an indescribable type of happiness. It’s not the same anymore, though. I don’t connect with people of humor and just keep it to myself. There’s nothing like genuinely finding something enjoyable, and laughing, and being happy, and I miss that feeling.
