Trying to Find the Words

This has been a horrible year for people around the world.

The exceptions, of course, are the billionaires and mega-millionaires who have increased their wealth by even more billions. The wealthiest Americans have more money than ever, while ordinary Americans struggle to pay rent and buy food. All of us are more stressed for far longer than we have ever been. People have lost their jobs and their businesses. Congress (the Senate in particular) has spent more time pushing through a new Supreme Court justice than on passing a relief bill for Americans in need. More than 230,000 Americans have died from Covid-19, while countless others will live with the lingering effects of the virus.

Tempers are short (I know mine is). I have lost interest in taking care of housekeeping and other mundane chores. People are stressed beyond belief. Insomnia is rampant. Alcohol use has increased dramatically. Parents struggle with trying to work from home while taking care of their kids, or homeschooling them. 

As a writer, I usually don't struggle to find the right words. But now, just days before the most crucial election of my lifetime, the words aren't there to describe how I feel. I am worried. Stressed. Anxious. Frustrated. Bored. Angry. Despair. Tired. Sad. Disgusted. Isolated.  Frightened. Unable to focus. Easily distracted. Uninspired. Yet these words just scratch the surface of my feelings.

I am fortunate that I don't have to worry about losing my job (I retired 10 years ago). I don't have to worry about making a mortgage payment or paying rent. I have food. I have no children at home. I have good health insurance, thanks to that horrible "socialist" health care program called Medicare. I have no business to worry about.

But I do worry. And I am afraid for our health care workers, for those suffering with Covid-19 and struggling even after recovering from this horrible disease. I worry about myself when I hear about others who get coronavirus despite following the recommended precautions. I worry about the stress so many are under. I worry about those in minority populations who are even more greatly impacted by Covid. I worry about the deep divisions in our country. I worry about the hatred that fills so many Americans. I worry about the threats to our civil rights from a president* who attacks the news media and reporters who don't praise him constantly. A president* who questions whether public protests should be permitted (they are allowed by the Constitution of the United States). A president* who has packed the Supreme Court with conservative justices only too willing to do his bidding. An attorney general who serves not on behalf of the American people, but on behalf of his cult leader. 

My greatest worry, of course, is the survival of my country as a democratic republic as it is being dragged into becoming a divided country led by a would-be autocrat. Regardless of who wins the elections, I expect much civil unrest. Reversing the damage of the past 4 years won't be easy. Harder still will be to heal the hatred, violence and divisions encouraged by the occupant of the White House.

Politics has never been something of which I took much notice. I voted in major elections. I was familiar with presidential candidates and their platforms. But never did it occupy so much of my mind. Never did it present the threat to our country as it does now. Never has this country had such an unhinged president* and a political party bent on destroying the country.

I don't post political signs in my yard for fear of retribution from members of a certain political party, although there are signs supporting both presidential candidates in the neighborhood and none has been stolen or destroyed. Things appear to be very civil. Besides, I doubt that a campaign sign has ever persuaded anybody to vote for or against a particular candidate.

I told a neighbor recently that I wish I could do what the bears do: Stuff my face, consume many calories, and then hibernate for several months, reappearing in the spring. Sadly, I can't do that. 

So I will resist stuffing my face. I will continue to write, to read and to edit my photos. I will do my daily walks and watch television if I feel like it. I will cook comforting foods. (So far I have made stew and chicken noodle soup, and a batch of homemade granola). I will take a nap if I feel tired. And if the house is dusty, who's going to see it? I don't have visitors, and my dogs (the source of much of the dust) don't care.

At this point, I and most others are in survival mode.  We must take care of ourselves. Give ourselves a break. Find, and do, things that bring us joy. Step away from social media and the news. We must survive to fight for our country, and to help rebuild it.