Life has seemed a bit harder than usual lately. And not the normal kind of hard. That kind of hard I’m used to – the push through even though you’re tired, get everyone where they need to be and just survive until life calms down type of hard. This is more emotionally hard, and it’s exhausting in a completely different way.
It’s the deep sigh that comes from once again realizing that it’s not that this country isn’t ready for equality, it’s that it doesn’t want it. It’s that familiar feeling of feeling a bit invisible, a bit stepped on, a bit like you’re screaming in a crowded room and no one can hear you. We’ve been here before, we live here. We’ll swallow the pain and move on.
It’s the chest tightening, heart pounding anxiety that comes from the unknown. The constant cycling thoughts where logic and panic fight daily, as you try to figure out what is the correct level of worry. Every decision seems mortally important, and I’m constantly seconding guessing everything from whether we should continue to go to work and school to whether we should be stock piling supplies. I bounce back and forth between not that worried and waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, panicked about everything. It feel like it would almost take less energy to just stay worried all the time…
It’s the lists upon lists and hours of preparation to do something that feels monumental and a little bit crazy, but you do it because you know it will make your kids happy. And the planning, while tough, isn’t that bad. It’s the not knowing if all that planning will be for nothing, since it feels like life could be cancelled at any minute. It’s wondering if you should bother planning at all, but also not wanting to be scrambling at the last minute in case they sky doesn’t fall, and life continues to happen.
It’s the calming breaths you try to take while holding back tears and sweating from everywhere, when you don’t want to snap at a child who doesn’t understand and doesn’t deserve it, because they can’t and don’t move as fast as you’d like them to. But just once, you’d like a day where everyone sat calmly in their car seats cooperating with being buckled in, and no one screamed for snacks or because the sun decided to come out that day and had the audacity to get in their eyes.
It’s all a lot.
I know I should turn off the news and Facebook and ignore everything I can’t control and focus on cuddling my babies. I wish it were that easy. I wish I could shut off the work emails and meetings that scream “PANIC! CHANGE! UNKNOWN!” every day. The messages from Tom that do the same thing because his company is freaking out too. I almost miss when texting my friends involved talking about baby poop and spit up and comparing how many hours of sleep we’d had that week. Oh what I’d give for a conversation debating whether one of our babies has a concussion because they fell off the couch… again…
It’s also probably not a good time to mention that I gave up all junk food for lent, right? Ice cream, cookies, chocolate, muffins, Easter candy…
So I guess what I’m saying is, if you see me or talk to me, keep this in mind. I might be a bit spacey, or emotional, or forget things I normally wouldn’t. And I’ll try to keep in mind that the same is probably true for you. (That time change sure didn’t help, did it?)
