I’m definitely feeling pretty on edge, of late. Yesterday morning, my mom read an article about voter turnout in the US election, and I just started crying. It was strange, and confusing, and it kinda hurt. I’m not normally the kind of person who starts crying out of nowhere.
It’s a special kind of helpless. I’ve seen Canadians joke that we all watch the US election like a sports game–and yeah, last time ’round, when I was too young to really understand any of this, that’s sort of how it felt. But this time… this time feels different.
The results for the election just came in–after a very long wait. It’s a relief just to get the whole thing over with.
The past few days have not been good. It’s not just the election–honestly, I’ve been weirdly numb to it. I just don’t have the energy left right now to let my emotions get wrapped up in things I can’t control. I have to be logical, and detached, because… because that’s kind of just the excuse I give myself when I spend three months feeling sad, and angry, and stuffing it all into a little box until eventually I explode.
Yesterday was an explosion kind of day. I got home from a shitty day at school, picked up a bag of pasta out from the drawer we keep pasta in, dropped it back in the drawer, closed the drawer, opened the drawer, picked up the pasta, and started crying on the floor.
But today, I woke up, at 8:40 in the morning, to the wind blowing like crazy outside. I crawled out of bed, and I checked my phone, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and saw that Trump wasn’t president. And I smiled, a little, and texted my friend. I made breakfast, and went to work. It’s not much–but it’s a start.
It’s been a long few weeks. (Actually, it’s barely been one since the month started, but it feels like it’s been 500 years.)
Sometimes, I just get really lonely, you know? I don’t have many people to talk to right now. I feel cold, and sad, and distant, and defeated, and like maybe the story is over. And all that’s left to do is just sort of wander around aimlessly, through this weird mental fog for the rest of eternity.
I haven’t let myself feel hopeful in so long.
This is gonna sound really cheesy–and I can’t believe I’m writing this in a public setting, but… I guess I just have to believe that this isn’t over. Because I’m not going to let everything happening in the world, and in my life, and in my own fucking mind take me down this easily.
Because I have my mother’s strength, and my father’s persistence. Because I am made from endless droughts and thunderstorms I thought might be the last of me. This feeling won’t last forever.
I know those things are true. Even when everything else seems unreal.
Winter is beginning to properly set in, now. I don’t entirely mind; even if it is very dark all the time, and means my sneakers always get muddy and soaking wet on the walk home from school.
I talked to someone yesterday, actually. It’s probably the first time I’ve reached out for help to anyone outside my immediate social circle in, like, eight months or so. And god, it was so nice. I feel like a thousand pounds have been lifted off my chest, like the smoke has finally cleared and I can actually breathe again.
But god–also, I’m just terrified. Restrictions are starting to get more strict in my area. It feels… like it did, last time. I don’t want to relive that experience again–but there’s not much I can do about it.
Last night, I found out that someone at my school got COVID. I haven’t directly been in contact with them, and obviously everyone was still wearing masks and social distancing–but it’s still scary.
When I found out, I just kinda went numb. You know what it felt like, when you fell off the monkey bars as a kid–that tingling, breathless, paralyzed feeling as you struggled to breathe? Yeah. It was like that.
I started crying and then I stopped crying and then I watched TV for three hours and then I started crying again. Technically I’m not supposed to do anything–go to school as per normal and just keep monitoring for symptoms. But I’ll probably be at home for the next little while.
I don’t know how to end this post.
I”m really tired. I sorta want to collapse into the ground, and just cry until there’s nothing left. Or chug five cups of coffee. Or sleep for the rest of the year.
I want to tell you it’s gonna be all right. I want to give you a hug, or your favourite snack, or a day off work, or whatever you need right now. I want to fix your problems with a snap of my fingers—but I’m not a fairy godmother, or even someone who knows how to do those things for herself yet. Just a fifteen year old girl, who takes pictures on her phone and cries a lot.
I want to say this month has been wonderful, talk about the good. And there have been cool things I’ve done over the last little while. But also… it’s been hard. And I don’t have the answers. I can’t fix you–no matter how hard I try to.
I hope the next month treats us both well, though.
Take care of yourself. Be safe. I’ll see you all in thirty days.
Lots of love,