Finding peace in a bubble of acceptance while living with severe chronic illness
Grief and acceptance are two difficult concepts to deal with when chronically ill. Here’s how I manage.
A while ago, my cousin came by for a short five minute visit with her young son. I only see them about once a year and only for a very short time, if at all. Her son had grown into a very fine young little boy eager about life. He had started a crystal collection and he was thrilled when I gave him the rose quartz I have kept as company for many years. We also discovered we play the same iPad game.
While I love these visits, and would love more of them, they also take a toll on my mental health. I have a lot of inner work to do afterwards. And just to be clear, I gladly do the inner work and have more visits.
It takes a toll because I am reminded that I won’t ever have children, and in my everyday that’s fine, but when I’m confronted with it I do feel a deep sadness that this is one more thing that is not possible for me.
See, what keeps me happy and mentally/spiritually/emotionally stable is that I live inside a bubble. I’m not saying this is healthy or that you should be doing this, it’s simply my survival mechanism.
Inside this bubble I’m ok (somewhat). I’m ok with all the losses. Ok with how things are. Not elated, or even remotely satisfied, just ok.
But the minute I step outside that bubble, like when I talk to children, or in other ways am exposed to the outside world, a waterfall of grief comes crashing down on me. There’s not much I can do about this grief other than acknowledge it and let it out in tiny increments at a time. It never goes away, there are no techniques that magically make it disappear, the grief is there no matter what.
The last time I came out of my bubble was when I had just finished all my music and sent it to the mixing engineers. I had fantasised too much about a music career, singing live, practicing daily, playing music with others, and after a few days I was hit with the waterfall of grief again.
The only way I get by is to go back inside my bubble. I guess it’s a bubble of acceptance. I pull back my energy (here’s a meditation to help you do that) from all the dreams and ‘things-that-could-not-be’ and I find my place inside the bubble again and things calm down.
The bubble isn’t just a metaphorical construct; it’s an active practice. This practice helps me withdraw from the external pressures and internal fantasies, allowing me to re-center and ground myself.
Living with a severe chronic illness requires constant adaptation and self-compassion. The bubble is not a perfect solution, but it’s my way of coping with the relentless challenges and emotional turmoil that come with my condition. It’s a space where I can grieve safely, without being overwhelmed, and where I can nurture the fragments of hope and joy that sustain me through each day.
Tell me…
How do you deal with grief and acceptance in your daily life?
What often triggers your grief?
What do you do when your grief is triggered?
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Did you miss?
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Meditation: Calling ourselves back
Are you looking for all the meditations? Click here
I relate to this. I also am ok in my bubble, but at times I am reminded that the outside world is so much bigger. It is hard.
Oh Madelleine, I feel for you. Your bubble seems very apt. On a goodish day our bubble is comfortable enough while we keep our attention and expectations modest. The other day, a friend asked what I miss the most, and I teared up and told her “Just walking around, being able to stroll here and there, wherever I want, all day. The French call it flâneur..” I’m weeping now, a little, as I type this. Sometimes it feels like old me died, and new me has been born again from the ashes. New me is great, but so was old me. I miss her. And yes, we have to deal with this in our bodies a little at a time because otherwise its too much. Similar to how people ask why I don’t sob and writhe with severe migraine and I say it just hurts so much more if I do that, eventually, you train yourself out of it.
Thank you for sharing these hard truths, and inviting us to share also.