I’m still processing…

I feel like that hour-glass on a computer that’s constantly flipping or that forever-spinning color wheel with no indication that the processing will stop. I feel like every day there is something else that I have to consume and make sense of before letting it settle into my memory bank of disappointment and exhaustion.

How black people are still able to clock in to work and be relatively productive with all that’s going on is a testament to the strength we have to pull from for survival. It is also a testament to the unfairness of this country that it is expected of us to continue experiencing trauma but working as if nothing is happening. We have been in this fight for equality for centuries and instead of letting up the tactics have changed, but the expectations of our contribution to society continue to be increasingly demanding. Now we have the burden of explaining our plight or reliving painful events. All the while, carrying on working our asses off to be in positions that, frankly, weren’t meant for us. How many times must we keep hearing, “the first black…?!”
Also when we do get into that company or position of power. The amount of gratitude and/or modesty we’re expected to express is nauseating. As if we should feel special for accomplishing something that we weren’t really meant to due to racism and/or classism. I have heard this sentiment expressed by peers and have felt it in the past. As if I’m not deserving of an opportunity even though I put in just as much work as a colleague. As if my intentions to work from home are nefarious compared to my white male counterpart. I will never forget my manager pulled me into the office to discuss the number of days I worked from home when my white male colleague did so constantly but it was never an issue for him. That stung.

Despite the lack of empathy and outright hostility this country has shown for its black citizens, we have accomplished so much in such a short time considering the significant head-start and privilege granted our white counterparts. Yet there is still criticism and judgment of the black community. This is because prejudice cannot be eradicated without acknowledgment that this country was built on the blood, sweat, and tears of black and indigenous people. Notice how some white people refuse to extend sympathy when black people are shot for no reason but instead dig into the victim’s history to justify violence or death at the hands of police. They make farfetched assumptions about the situation favoring the police who exercise deadly poor judgment. This is due to the complete and utter obliviousness to their own privilege and refusal to accept that this country has major flaws that won’t be fixed by billionaires or capitalism and that racism is woven into our institutions. It feels impossible to convince someone that black lives matter when all they really care about is their own.

On top of having to maneuver this incredibly difficult time, I’m also seeing these deranged thoughts pop up in social media that are laughable but dangerous having to do with the validity of wearing a mask. This refusal to not wear a mask has somehow crept its way into being compared to the protests, which is another example of how white people consistently need to center themselves by any means necessary. On top of having to explain why black lives matter, I am now having to deal with white people comparing wearing a mask to the death of George Floyd! A woman said, on-air, that George Floyd’s last words were I can’t breathe and that she couldn’t breathe with the mask on. Who are these people?!
I have to deal with the twisted logic that the oppression I face is ridiculously comparable to being told to wear a mask. As if the plea to wear a mask couldn’t get any more out of control, white people are trying to argue that their rights are being violated and THEY are being oppressed?!? I just. I can’t.

Another waking nightmare is - you guessed it - the president who refuses to take responsibility for literally anything and continues to be a divisive, unhelpful lummox. I cannot write about him too much because it’s detrimental to my mental health. It’s extremely infuriating that he is still so popular and his followers are so far removed from reality. Also, to still think that people are going to vote for him despite every horrendous thing he’s done to this country and its citizens make me physically ill. I read this great thread on Twitter from a woman who is a Mormon mommy blogger/designer/author (I know but hear me out) and she wrote an open letter to her fanbase chastising anyone who still supports Trump and blatantly telling them to unfollow her and not buy her stuff. It’s truly a great thread if you wanna read it, here.

All in all, it seems the amount we’re all processing isn’t going to let up anytime soon. I don’t know if or when we’ll ever feel content. Like content in the true sense of the word, “in a state of peaceful happiness or satisfied,” and I don’t know if anyone can fully be content right now with all that’s going on. I mean, I’m trying and there are absolutely moments that I do cherish, like my friend’s bday party this past weekend where we escaped this hellscape for a bit and boiled like lobsters in a hot tub. Even then though we were confronted by the grotesque amount of Trump signs proudly posted on people’s lawns and even saw a confederate flag. It was disturbing seeing that many honestly and this town was only a few hours away from the city. I’M WATCHING YOU NARROWSBERG.
But anyway, those escapes from the city used to bring me contentment for days afterward, but it felt like the magic of the trip dissipated the moment I got out of the car and lugged my stuff back into this apartment that I have been sheltering in for months. I love my apartment though, and I truly love that I get to be with Ian here in our space, but the closer we get to the election, the harder it is to hold on to contentment. I know that sounds dramatic, and let me be clear, I’m not in a constant state of rage/panic, but I am worrying a lot more and very nervous about the upcoming election and its results. I do find serenity in different areas of my life and do have instances of happiness and joy because no one or thing is going to take that away from me BUT I’m finding it harder to make those instances last and not spiral. I really want to get back into therapy, but dealing with in-network, out of network, zoom, phone, all just seems a little more overwhelming than not to figure out. I’ll do it though, in my own time. For now, I’ll continue to write and pour out my hodgepodge of thoughts, so I don’t explode.

OKAY.

I gotta go watch some more tiny kitchen cooking clips and drown myself in cookies ‘n cream ice cream.