Pandemic: Life on the ground

[Jersey Girl]

RI I am so sorry for your loss and for your grief. Yes, the music is how one would plead to God for the soul of a loved one. I attach to music in that exact way when grieving, and not just religious music. It washes the soul or spirit, or I could say to an atheist friend that it helps us pour out our emotions. It's a form of tribute. Music can do things that words cannot because we feel it to our inner core and it is all encompassing. It takes our feelings, our body, our mind, our thoughts and brings it all in sync, then pours it out.

Your imagery of a shark circling really hit home. Last night after I wrote a post about the abuse of the American public--not sure what thread that was at the moment--I collapsed emotionally. I threw in my fighter towel, not forever just temporarily, because I couldn't take it any more. So I decided to share it with my God because that's what I do.

Lord the Bible tells us to cast all our cares upon you for your careth for us. I'm casting my cares right now. Lord I am tired of this fight. I am weary of balancing hope and fear, worrying if I or my people will turn up sick and suffer or die. I'm tired of worrying about being near my people, about Christmas, wondering if I will or they will wake up with symptoms that will lead to physical suffering and grief. I don't know how long the world wars lasted or the Great Depression or how long Anne Frank hid out or how long the Jewish people suffered at the hands of Nazi Germany. Lord I can't remember those things. That's not who I am. Lord you made me someone who feels the feelings of others. That's who I am. I am overwhelmed with feelings of despair as I watch our elected officials abuse the very American public that pays their salaries. Lord, I don't need 600 dollars or even 2,000 dollars but there are people out there who desperately need it. They can't put food on their table, they can't pay their light and heat, they are worried about being evicted from their homes in winter, and they are scared of getting sick and having no health insurance, and the more our leaders play with their lives--they become increasingly desperate and lose their hope.

Lord it's not that I don't see reason for hope. I'm just casting my cares. I'm thankful that you made people smart enough to do things I could never know how to do, how to use their skill and knowledge to create vaccines. I know I only have to wait for them. I notice the way people are moved to help others. I notice how different Joe Biden is from Donald Trump. Lord, I can't pray for Trump any more. He's got parts missing that we can't put back. Please protect Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, and the people they are putting to work for this country. Please help them to turn things around. They're already doing it, Lord. I see that. I see and feel the wave of hope, and just pray it will wash over this whole country.

It's not that I don't see the good rising to the top. I'm just casting my cares. It's not that I don't think I will wake up tomorrow ready to keep running the race. It's just that tonight, after running this marathon for so many months, I see the finish line and my legs are turning to jelly. I've got spaghetti legs and I feel like they are going to buckle out from under me before I get there. It's not that I don't think I can go on, I know I can. It's not that I don't think the right decisions will be made for our people in the end. It's the torture of waiting for the abuse to end. I'm just casting my cares. That's all.

I think I've done a good job of getting through this, Lord. I've managed to keep optimistic, to turn the stress and pressure into something productive and positive. I've taken this time of isolation and tried to make something useful out of it. I've used everything I have to keep going. I know I'll keep doing it. I know I'm resilient. It's not that I can't take this any more. I know I will take it and continue to take it. I'm not afraid of the next punch. I'm just so tired of watching people play games with people's real lives. How can they do that? I don't understand the political games. I don't even know if they ARE games. I don't understand why a bill to provide relief to our people has to be over 5 thousand pages of stuff. I don't know why foreign countries are in there. I don't feel like I have time to study it and understand it like other people do.

But Lord, even though I don't understand all of those things, I understand people and their suffering. I know what it's like to feel invisible. I know what it's like to take crap off people who have authority over me. I know what it's like to feel forgotten. What about R? She needs that money and there are millions of people just like her. And everything that's going on right now tells her that she doesn't matter. She matters!

-----and on and on it went. Casting my cares...because last night I couldn't take it any more.

But I will.

[Some Schmo]

Yesterday it got much closer, killing the first person I knew personally. Her name was Kerstin. She was one of the kids I grew up with in the LDS church in Bellingham, Washington.

I'm really sorry to hear this, RI. My condolences.

I find myself very nostalgic this holiday season and reaching out to old friends. Your story especially made an impression on me today.

[Res Ipsa]

Thanks, Jersey Girl. I appreciated reading your prayer. I can see how it helps you find the strength to carry on when you can’t muster the strength to take another commands. It reminds me of part of a hymn I liked growing up: “Come cast your burden on the Lord and trust his constant care.” And it ends “I’ll drop my burden at his feet and beat a song away.”

[Res Ipsa]

Thanks, Schmo. It could be the combination of isolation and the holidays, but I know how you feel.

[Jersey Girl]

Thanks, Jersey Girl. I appreciated reading your prayer. I can see how it helps you find the strength to carry on when you can’t muster the strength to take another commands. It reminds me of part of a hymn I liked growing up: “Come cast your burden on the Lord and trust his constant care.” And it ends “I’ll drop my burden at his feet and beat a song away.”

I. just. couldn't. go. one. step. more.

Not right then anyway. I keep telling myself to limit reading news coverage and I don't stick with that for very long. Everything just felt so toxic last night. Like your sharks, I felt like a duck in a shooting gallery last night. I realize I'm doing it to myself and yet, it's hard to disconnect from the news.

I see the news about the relief checks and all I can think about are the people.

I cried when I read your story. I can't do justice to how you feel. None of us really can.

We can get up again. We can keep going. Helping other folks helps us to feel empowered. We can do that. Be the antidote to the chaos and suffering.

You know, Ghandi.

Pull from within even when you think there's nothing left. We can do that, RI.

[Jersey Girl]

I wanted to say what I did about Christmas. I went to a gathering of 7 people total. I wore a mask the whole time except for 4-5 times when I uncovered for a few seconds to put food in my mouth. I spent most of the time sitting directly in front of an open window. All the first floor windows were wide open with a nice breeze. I had driven my own vehicle in case I felt I needed to leave. I didn't do that. I stayed right on about 2 hours. I kept my distance but I didn't avoid hugging my people and I did NOT ask the little one scooching up next to me to move away.

And when I got home...I learned that one of the hosts got a call directly after the gathering, that their bubble was broken by the friend of a friend and that there could have been possible exposure to a covid case.

After I stopped crying about it, I decided not to worry. If I end up getting sick, I'll try to fight my ass off like I would anyway.

You were very careful. Thoughts of good health are winging their way to Colorado.

You know what, I didn't realize how affected I was about all of this until I got home. I didn't realize how much anxiety had built up about it. I enjoyed myself SO much. We haven't all been together at the same time since mine and little one's birthday which is the same day in early March, before this all hit the fan. On the way home (I was driving by myself recall) I talked to God out loud and told him how full my heart was. I got to be with my people, touch them, laugh with them, give them gifts, and if this was my last Christmas, I loved having it.

Then, I come home to the message about the covid exposure. Whereupon I cried until 4 a.m. I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge how keyed up I was about the decision to go to Christmas and all the rooting through precautions. After the tear fest, I determined to pick myself up and keep going.

I feel like I've been through 10 months of psychotherapy here.

[Res Ipsa]

I. just. couldn't. go. one. step. more.

Not right then anyway. I keep telling myself to limit reading news coverage and I don't stick with that for very long. Everything just felt so toxic last night. Like your sharks, I felt like a duck in a shooting gallery last night. I realize I'm doing it to myself and yet, it's hard to disconnect from the news.

I see the news about the relief checks and all I can think about are the people.

I cried when I read your story. I can't do justice to how you feel. None of us really can.

We can get up again. We can keep going. Helping other folks helps us to feel empowered. We can do that. Be the antidote to the chaos and suffering.

You know, Ghandi.

Pull from within even when you think there's nothing left. We can do that, RI.

We've all been through the wringer this years in so many ways, it's amazing we're not all just basket cases.

I hit the wall over the weekend. I finally realized that I was carrying around so much stress and anxiety that I wasn't functioning. So I unplugged from all news. Haven't even looked at Twitter. Didn't check in here until I had something to say that wouldn't dissolve into a crap show. Walked every day. Meditated every day. Reestablished a pretty strict routine where I make a plan for the entire day -- wake up to bed time -- just so my poor tired brain always knows what it's supposed to be doing.

And it's working already. If I'd received the bad news Saturday, I would have gone back to bed and stayed all day. Today I cried, sent notes to members of the family I'm still in touch with, posted here, listened to music, and just kept going.

You're right. There's more in there I can pull from. And we can all pull each other.

[Jersey Girl]

We've all been through the wringer this years in so many ways, it's amazing we're not all just basket cases.

We are. We're at least intermittent basket cases.

I hit the wall over the weekend. I finally realized that I was carrying around so much stress and anxiety that I wasn't functioning. So I unplugged from all news. Haven't even looked at Twitter. Didn't check in here until I had something to say that wouldn't dissolve into a crap show. Walked every day. Meditated every day. Reestablished a pretty strict routine where I make a plan for the entire day -- wake up to bed time -- just so my poor tired brain always knows what it's supposed to be doing.

It's a strange process, isn't it? You don't even know you've been fishtailing until you're right in the spin and then, you've got to turn it all around to get back on track. I wish I could walk every day! Living in a forest sounds great and it is for the most part, but during winter and especially when the sky is overcast, it can make you feel like you're living in a box. It's been too cold here to stay outside long enough to walk the roads or even the drive way.

And it's working already. If I'd received the bad news Saturday, I would have gone back to bed and stayed all day. Today I cried, sent notes to members of the family I'm still in touch with, posted here, listened to music, and just kept going.

You rehabbed yourself and it's just a good thing that you did before you got the hard news. If you hadn't started coming back up again you could have easily been driven under the bottom and not been able to manage at all upon hearing the news about your friend. I got out of the box today and went into town to pick up some things curbside from a live sale last night. It's so good for me to drive around and seek blue and open skies, people going about their business. I keep having to remind myself to get out when I can because it keeps me from losing perspective.

You're right. There's more in there I can pull from. And we can all pull each other.

That's kind of my philosophy of life right there.

I was thinking while driving around about the hard times we've had in our family and one in particular where there was a suicide and how many years (literal years) we dealt with the terror of the ongoing trauma of that. Years. It's easy to forget another hard time when you're in the middle of one. I have said that I've never seen another year like this in my life and while that is true, it's not the hardest time I've even been through and that one I mentioned, it was a sustained effort for over 5 years.

I can get through this. You can get through this. We all can. It's just that we're all human and humans lose their footing sometimes. On the whole, I'd say we're doing pretty good. We're actually on the downhill slope of this pandemic but it's going to be a very, very, very, slow ride. We have to be willing to finish the ride. Maybe find a way to yank the other guy up.

We can do these things, RI. We can't always do them alone. But we can definitely do them. Find a way to pull or someone to pull with. Or just take a much needed rest to self regulate, then put the gloves back on because we aren't finished yet.

[Jersey Girl]

I wrote this in an above post, What about R? She needs that money and there are millions of people just like her. And everything that's going on right now tells her that she doesn't matter. She matters!

New Year's Day. First Facebook post of the new year by R is asking if anyone has gotten their checks yet. There are people who are desperate for these $600 checks. Desperate.

[Jersey Girl]

As of this coming Monday, we are moving from Level Red (Stay the hell home) to Level Orange (Really, you should stay the hell home), because our infection rate has been trending downward.

And yet, today the U.S. has it's highest number of reported new cases since the pandemic "began".

255,969