I live in a bubble where ignorance is bliss. I protect myself by not asking the questions I don't want answered. Unless I know it's good news, I won't bother speaking up. If it has the possibility of shattering my protective barrier, I'll avoid learning it at all costs. This has been working splendidly. I get all the joy of being loved, and all the freedom of being on my own. Don't ask, don't tell. It works out. Or it did, until I didn't get enough sleep and neglected to remember how thin that glass bubble really is. It is so close to shattering, and I've barely scratched it.
The bubble has been more of a trap than a positive arrangement. Elusive freedom. I can see out, but I like my safety, so I stay. I don't push buttons that might nick the glass. I don't ask questions that would let real light through. I'm protecting myself so much that I'm creating an imaginary world in here- a lonely one. No one else can get in because I'm too distracted by something that will inevitably break the bubble and set me spinning back into deterioration at some unknown time in the near future.
My options are clear: break the bubble myself and begin my descent into hysteria, or wait. Wait for the bubble the shatter on its own. Wait until enough rocks fly at it, enough time passes and the cracks expand to the point where the bubble shatters under its own pressure. Holding out reality is a big job for such thin glass. I should've known to build it stronger in the first place.
The bubble is about to come crashing down. Not only will I be covered in slivers of broken glass and bleeding all over, but I'll be facing reality again. All that reality the bubble was holding out- the future, the past, relationships, friendships, love, life, ambition, honesty- will return to my shoulders. I'm bracing myself for the weight, but I know I'm not strong enough for all that. Especially not if I'm cut and bleeding when it comes down.
I asked a question I didn't want answered. I know I need the answer, but this will be the rock that cracks it all. One more sleepless night, this one spent waiting, waiting for it all to come falling onto me. At least I'm ready this time.
Ready as I'll ever be.
L
You're strong enough. You have to be, there is no other alternative. It's like those three months I spent in the hospital in 2000/2001 - there were only two ways out of that place. To live through it I HAD to be strong enough. It had nothing to do with bravery or keeping a stiff upper lip or any of that BS, it was my only choice.
ReplyDeleteAnd you ARE strong enough. Bleeding from the shards or not.
Hey Elle,
ReplyDeleteIt's a pleasure reading you!
I love your blog and your writing...
I am happy I found you (thank Michael)
there is always a time when is sleep is restless. Those bubbles so fragile... and there is always a time when the light can be seen at the end of the tunnel, I'd bet for the latter-always.
Dulce
i'm here when the time comes for hugs and friendship. 134. i believe in you!
ReplyDelete