Surviving Widowhood: Brain Fog

The first year after Greg died, I experienced brain fog. Brain fog is very real. Every widow I’ve talked to struggled with it.  And if someone knows a shortcut around it, by all means, speak up. I know of none. It’s something that woke up with me every morning,  went to bed with me at night and even hung around for a midnight snack on those sleepless nights. I’m told it’s normal.  

I sometimes tell other widows that their feelings are perfectly normal, and they are. But I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything normal at all about being a widow. Don’t get me wrong, I think we need to embrace our uniqueness and love our quirks. But I’m no longer certain that “normal” is the word I need to use to describe our feelings. Maybe “accepted” is a better word, although I’m not sure how to use that in a sentence of comfort unless it’s to say, “You are accepted by God.”  Or maybe the word “standard” would be better. I’m really not a fan of that word, either, because, even though some our experiences as widows may actually BE standard, it doesn’t seem that way. It feels reductive in some way. It seems like everyone else is “normal” and we are the oddballs.

I attribute most of these feelings to brain fog.  Brain fog keeps us from thinking clearly and seeing our circumstances realistically. It can give us a heightened sense of entitlement and prolong our grieving process. It’s an insidious little rascal. I’m gonna list a few things that seem to help, and if you’re experiencing brain fog for the first time, please let me know how this works for you:  

1.  Stop trying to normalize your life. Being a widow isn’t exactly normal. But it IS now part of your life. Embrace it. Acknowledge it. Accept it.  

2. Take advice from people you trust. I’m not advocating blindly doing someone else’s bidding like a Stepford Wife, but I AM saying “seek wise counsel.” Brain fog caused me to make a few poor decisions. Don’t let that be you.   

3. Be kind to yourself. Take a moment to breathe. Don’t push yourself beyond what you are able. Rest, take a walk, go out to dinner, kiss those grandkids, tickle those babies, laugh at yourself.  

While I’m not sure there’s a real cure for widows brain fog, if we focus on recovery, the task does get easier. Our reasons to live change. Our lives are transformed. And brain fog eventually has to find a new home.