Life In A Bubble

I live in a bubble. Some refer to it as widows fog, but I feel like bubble fits better for me. I try to avoid the "w" word, as I am not yet ready to accept that is what I have become, but I may very well be living in a widow's bubble.  It causes me to move/feel/process in slow motion, while the rest of the world is moving ahead at full speed.  Often times my view of the world through my bubble is clouded or foggy.  Other times I see the world so clearly, but I just cannot keep up.  This can be so frustrating for me, but at times I am able to accept that it is just how it has to be for now.

Life in my bubble is what causes me to look directly at you and not even process that I have seen you until hours later.  Or when one of you has performed some wonderful act of kindness for myself or my family and it takes me weeks to appropriately acknowledge you and offer my thanks, even though I feel gratitude towards you immediately. It is why I can get a sweet text or email from a dear friend and then find weeks have gone by before I sit down to reply. Sometimes I find it hard to properly articulate my emotions and thoughts, I may come across as a little off, or on a rough day, REALLY off.  But so far everyone is kind and patient with me.  I try to hide just how far behind the rest of you I feel.  I smile and pretend things are getting back to normal, even though they aren't. 

A very select few people know how to leave the high speed reality of life and join me in my slow motion bubble.  They comfort me and reassure me that it is okay, that I am okay.  They aren't uncomfortable around me.  They don't expect me to be something I am not, they don't expect me to do things I just can't.  They are fine just being with me.  I know this is a gift most people do not naturally have.  It is not a gift I have, however it is something I want to work on and hopefully develop. I am so grateful for these people in my life.  They inspire me in so many ways.

A couple weeks ago I had a serious emotional breakdown and reached out to someone. I didn't know what to do or say, but I knew I had to let someone know I was not doing well.  Though it was late, she was willing to come to me. To sit with me, to talk, to listen. She offered, but I was afraid to ask so much of someone.  I was afraid to admit my weakness and allow her to see my at my worst. I was afraid that I wasn't worth the effort.  I must seem like a crazy woman, reaching out for help and then refusing it!  She came to see me the next day.  We talked and I felt better.  Just knowing that she is there for me gives me hope.  Hope that maybe I can let down my guard at some point and allow someone in at the worst of times, when I need someone the most.

I don't know if my bubble will ever release me back into this fast paced world. And maybe that is okay.  One of the things I used to get so frustrated hearing was "you are being prepared so that you can help someone else through their trials".  I would think to myself,  how can I help someone else when I can't even overcome my own pain? But I have learned that is really what I want my life to be about, helping others know they are never alone.  I hope to be able to share my journey and help others find the faith to get through the things that seem so impossible to overcome. I am by no means an expert, but perhaps through my bumbling experiences, I can be helpful to someone else.