I don't know about you, but I am officially struggling. I spent a lot of time in a black hole of depression (I've talked about it...you already know) and I did a lot of things mechanically - showed up to work, completed assigned tasks, made sure the dog got fed and walked, etc. There were plenty of things I didn't do, too - wash my face before bed, eat properly, clean my house, keep in touch with family and friends. Since I've gotten the proper meds, I've been working to re-establish some of those lost habits. The other day, I was amazed to find my home was clean, no dishes in the sink, all clothes clean, food in the fridge for the week. It was incredible. It should have felt like a victory...but, I can't help feeling that it is all so insignificant in the face of this week's news from Las Vegas.
I've never been interested in firearms. I don't like having guns around. I don't like being around guns. I'm not a hunter or a soldier. What do I need with a gun? My family doesn't really agree with me on this point. I think my father would actually feel better if I had a gun in my home . I understand responsible people responsibly owning guns for hunting. I don't understand why individual citizens of the U.S. need to own automatic weapons. For what purpose? The only purpose could ever be to kill mass amounts of people.
What I really want to say, though, is that I don't know how we go on. How do we put one foot in front of the other? How do we keep binge watching Master of None? How do we cook dinner and clean the house and put away the laundry? I've read ten articles this week about how to turn my sorrow into action...but, what's the point? I have reached out to my representatives. I have written letters and emails and even made phone calls...many times over the last few years. It doesn't make a difference. I want to make a difference. I want to help people not be victims of mass murders. Right? Don't you? What will it take? Apparently, no tragedy is enough.
I lost my mother to cancer when I was 25. I was utterly unprepared for that loss. She was diagnosed and died within 4 months. In that 4 months, my family and I were in a shared delusion that she would recover. So, when she died...it was devastating. I know grief. I know sorrow. I know what it means to get up in the morning and go through the motions because life has to keep going. I've done it. This is different, though. This isn't my private tragedy. We all share this. How do we all just keep going? Shouldn't we not? Shouldn't we be doing something more? Like everything on this blog, I know I'm mostly talking to myself...but, I am hoping that others are feeling this, too. Where is this revolution? Where is this upheaval? What will it take? How do we begin? How do we begin to stop mass murdering one another? What's the first step there? And, in the meantime, I guess I'll be keeping the laundry clean and running the vacuum. I don't know what else to do.