Heavy Shit. I let my boobs bounce free today and wore my Hilary Button on my shirt. I cried talking about the election and had a strange encounter with a Trump supporting kid at the park. I’ve been blasting nineties hip-hop in the car driving the babies around, Jacks learning to chair dance. I feel mad, sad, and ready to fight for Democracy in America. I will NEVER accept Donald Trump as my president. I DON’T care what that stance costs me. I will NOT let this fly. I do not see the silver lining in it, except for my eye balls being ripped open, my callused white, liberal, life that left me thinking that “things can’t be that bad” during the “Black Lives Matter” movement, to knowing now, that things are that bad. My eyes have been ripped open to the systemized racism in America, the pitfalls of our national education system that’s left people ignorant and mislead. My heart bleeds for the pain and suffering for our world, in this country and all other countries. How can we come together? How can we be that final movement to end this constant oppression and theft of our innocence and inherent kindness? The past two days I’ve hugged and kissed my babies harder than ever before. I see their pure love towards everyone and everything. They want to help people, to be nurturing, to be kind. Children do this naturally. Children are taught hate and prejudice. They are taught to only care about themselves, to be selfish. So many of us wonder, “How can people not care about the Syrian refugees?”. They don’t even want to help when they can. They give all the reasons why not, instead of thinking about just helping people. Where I live in San Rafael, we have a good homeless support system, a St Vincent’s, A Ritter House, residents of San Rafael are constantly trying to make services for the homeless move somewhere else. They complain about too many homeless people, instead of having some compassion and thanking God that they aren’t homeless themselves. Drop off a Turkey people! Sorry, that was a rant. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me now. I can’t help but blame myself for not staying involved in politics for the past fifteen years. After seeing the live bombing of Iraq broadcast on TV after 9/11 I’ve been dismayed. Since being in Marin, working at Nordstroms, where I was told I wasn’t aloud to talk to people about the war and how we needed to end it. I was told once during an art class I was taking that a person was very offended that I talked about animal rights and asked her to donate to PETA. The government shut down made me so mad. I was harassed with my Obama sticker on my car in Marin. My car was keyed and my Jerry Brown sticker ripped off in Marin. It’s scary and I’m a white suburban housewife. Things are not good in this country right now. Forget about being a teacher, I need to be an activist. We can never become complacent.
Category: Depression and anxiety
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Sick again. Then better. Then sick. Then better. A roller-coaster. Non-stop dishes; complaining re-wires the mind, it makes you more prone to anxiety and depression, I read this on-line. The pile grows, minute after minute, day after day. It causes me anxiety. There’s nothing I can do about it. I feel overwhelmed domesticity-wise. It’s hard for me to handle the constant talking, my name being called from all which ways, 360 degrees around my head, non-stop. The pulling in this direction and that. The mess after mess, Jack and Fiona growing up into actual people, whole people I need to clean up after. There’s no containing the mess, or trying to “keep up with it”, no, it just barrels out, the minute you think you’ve got it all under control, KaBoom! It’s like a hurricane went through the house. I can’t tell how exhausted I am from this whole ordeal. (of being a parent). Or if it’s the beginning of menopause and my hormones are changing drastically, leaving me unable to be the “Good Housewife”. I’ve said this before; it’s back breaking work. It’s intellectual too. Sometimes I’m bombarded with so much talking, mood switches, fighting, whining, asking, grabbing, calling my name, my mind goes blank. I can’t remember names of common zoo animals. Spaghetti brain. Then the constant anxiety over the election, pure fright. Do I need something stronger? Something to numb my body and my senses? A costume? A disguise? Fake it till I make it? Does my stomach hurt from stress or hormones? Or is it real? Are all feelings real? How do we honor ourselves and how we are feeling when we are under a heavy pile of dirty laundry? Too heavy to pick up, too massive to just “get it done”. These are feelings that go through my mind and body. Things I say that get taken out of context, another problem when you’re raw. Is it a shared feeling? A shared sense of being? It’s noon, Monday November 7, 2016. Tomorrow is the election. We will see if some of my discomfort will go away after tomorrow (If Hilary wins). If Trump wins, I just don’t know. It will be a very sad and difficult day for me, for a lot of people.
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I feel optimistic today, I feel a change coming, a collective shift in our shared conciousness. All week I’ve been scared shitless about Donald Trump and his followers. The racists coming out of the woodworks has me reeling. To think if Trump wins, the people holding the Hitler signs will have validation, (in thier minds). But This morning I have a feeling that he WILL NOT WIN. TRUMP WILL NOT BECOME OUR PRESIDENT. I had insomnia last night, as I lay awake, fears of raising my two kids for the next four years of their life under a Trump government, during the collapse of America as we know it. All the progress that’s been made, down the drains. The economy, dire. But NO, I have faith there are enough people VOTING for HILARY CLINTON to not let that happen!!!
I was sick again this week, I missed my own art opening last night, which totally sucked. It’s been a rough week, again. (I read a headline that says “complaining rewires your brain, making you more prone to depression and anxiety”) , but the week really was hard. Both babies sick again, then me and Alan. Jack going through a whining and hitting phase. Fiona’s still my angel! ( waiting for the three’s to hit her) I didn’t get many breaks , two days no naps. I finally got in my studio yesterday, which was awesome! This is the first I’ve written in a week. I’m feeling a lot better now.
Today will be a good day. A busy day, family day at Early Start(Fiona’s school) and a wedding to go to! But I’m feeling optimistic! I’m sending out positive vibes!
HILARY FOR PRESIDENT!!
VOTE VOTE VOTE!!!