Writing is healing… if I can let myself simply write. Lately I’m caught between avoiding the news for my own mental health and then returning so I may be a responsible citizen. It’s painful.
This is not to say that I am without hope. We will prevail and we sure are resisting and persisting! My words sound lame to me. There is only so much TV news I can take and yet I am renewed by the writings and words of others, especially those who delineate ways to resist while taking care of myself.
One way I take care of myself is by crocheting and knitting. Yes, that’s one way, just two different stitch methods. I am able to make something, whether it is a pussy hat for a friend in Madison, Wisconsin, or hats for my grandkids. Leta is 2 1/2 months old and growing so fast! For Sam, a crocheted stocking cap with one for his best friend as well. That way he might actually wear it!
I am covered though with a pervasive sadness. Sad for the world, sad for refugees and plenty angry at the man who isn’t my president. I do wonder though, if this is what had to happen before things will get better. I get some comfort thinking that this may be where we have to be, as in hit rock bottom before we can get whole again? That said, I also get very confused!
Bear with me as I write. I hope to make more sense soon.