|Smashing the patriarchy one bath at a time|
I know many of us are hurting, and we are angry and afraid. We are outraged at what is going on in our country, in the world.
I am working on not being fearful and enraged all the time.
You know, I bought some pepper spray the other day. It's in a leopard print holster. It's cute. The reason for carrying it is the opposite of cute.
And I'm in a demographic with the fewest threats against it right now, except for the fact that I'm a woman.
When there is a problem, I make calls to elected officials. I throw money at the issues. I live, as some people call it, in my DC bubble. We read and are horrified by the news, but we aren't in rural areas living it.
I know that Thanksgiving is a holiday many object to, because it celebrates domination. The white settlers arrived, invaded, and stole. And over generations, kept marginalizing and taking.
We want most of your land, but can have this land. So move. Oh, until we want it. Then we'll take it.
Police sprayed peaceful protesters at Standing Rock with water cannons in freezing weather. Literally freezing, like the water turned to ice.
Who among us thinks that is defensible?
We look at images from Syria, where adults and children are terrified for their lives. Tiny little babies, just born, are losing their lives in war.
And there are those among us who would turn away refugees.
It is hard for me to be hopeful right now.
Thanksgiving has never been my holiday anyway, although it's much, much better on antidepressants. It used to feel like a celebration of the dark, where things would start to get really bad, what with the waning of the light and the beginning of the season where I would put every carb that crossed my path into my face.
Thanksgiving, with all its delicious pecan pie, was the official start to my annual descent into my own personal version of crying, weight-gaining hell.
And yes, it was All About Me. When you are depressed, it is impossible to see outside your own pain. It's easy to be outraged, to blame anger or sadness on outside events or others. But that's not actually the root of it.
Pharmaceutical help is like magic. I only have the residual feeling that this is not my day. It is not accompanied by the first few steps into the depression spiral.
But the holidays are hard in their own right. If you've lost anyone you love, or are estranged from them, you still have an imaginary seat for them at your table. You feel their absence as much as you would feel any presence.
I'm writing all this to say, for me it is a forced pause, and a reminder to love the family and friends I have so hard. To be so grateful for the people in my life.
Recently my friend Leigh was telling my friend Meg how I have a million friends, and I started to deny it. Because I'm an introvert. I'm not all extroverted and friendly.
She cut me off. She said, "Are you kidding me? You have so many people you love. I could list tons of people you adore."
And you know what? She is right. There are tons of people I adore. Because our world, flawed and hateful as it can be, is also filled with amazing, loving, kind, smart, funny people.
I feel lucky to have so many of them in my life. For you, I am immensely grateful.
Let's keep fighting the good fight and love each other with all our hearts. (And also, maybe, with pecan pie.)
Big love and hugs.