Rest, Isolation, or Both?

Sometimes I wonder if there is fine line between isolation and just wanting to rest. There might be for me. I ran two flu clinics today, with a few hours in between each. I went home, wrote and rested after the first clinic. The second clinic was in the same town where my nephew and my sister-in-law live. I haven't seen them in way too long and actually want to see them, see how they're doing and chat with my nephew's mother. My second clinic would be over around dinner time, and if I texted her early and asked her to meet me for dinner I know she would more than likely agree. I didn't. I decided to wait until after the clinic and see how I felt afterward. Would I have the energy? I knew that I wanted to see them and talking with her would probably be uplifting.

I finished my clinic and decided against contacting them. I am tired. I am drained. I also stopped at a café to write and get caffeine before going home. And also because I may be afraid to go home. It may be that I just want to dive into bed and cover myself completely...gone and away for the evening.

Maybe I should have called her. The thing is that if they were to walk into this café right here right now, I would be so happy to see them. I would be elated, and we would talk and laugh and have a great evening. Then I would go home and rest, feeling so much better about it all.

That is probably what I need tonight...but I don't have the energy to make the call...or the text...or any move. I have seen other people do this. I have reached out to friends and offered my companionship and conversation whenever they need it. I have found out months later that they struggled through a tough time and never called me...they went through it alone...isolated. They didn't have it in them to make the call, but if I would have called they would have shared. I know how they felt. Sometimes you need to reach out, but everything feels way too heavy.

Write Anything

Sometimes I feel like I have to write something...anything...to get the crazies out of my head. This is me today writing anything just to get the rage out of my head. These are the times when I don't know exactly what the topic is. I don't know what it is that is knifing me...or I don't want to say...or I don't want to know.

But this time I feel a rage, a fire. I guess it's more than one thing, and maybe one thing brought it all to boiling. I want to scream, and cry and bang my head...and then I want to hide within the covers. And I want everything to be fine...or I want to be a child...but a different child...with a different childhood. The one where I am safe and everything is taken care of.

Ouch. Ugggh. That hurts so much.

The Sad Flags

I see the sad flags flying again...half-staff...again. And I look at them and cry...again. Because, again, it doesn't matter. All I think is that it doesn't matter. This country will not change. These things are sad to us...but not shocking.

I heard on NPR that Australia tightened their gun control laws, because they were shocked and outraged when thirty-five people were killed during a mass shooting. We kill fifty-eight, and we're not shocked. We kill twenty six-year old children, and it is not enough. There but for the grace of God go ours.

Seth Meyers opened his Late Show the Monday after the latest mass shooting in Las Vegas thanking and commending the first responders and blood donors who acted so selflessly and courageously after the shooting. He said that the worst in humanity is usually followed by the best in humanity...which is usually followed by no action.

I could not have said it better myself. How could this comedian have expressed so succinctly to the nation exactly what I was feeling and thinking? He said that when our Congress tells us that this is not the time to talk about gun control laws, they are telling us that we are never going to talk about it. And that if we are never going to talk about it, then they should at least be honest with us and let us know that this is just the way it's going to be from now on...which is exactly how I feel about it. It was as though my thoughts and my heart were coming out on Bluetooth through the television.

I'm not sure if I feel sad or angry about our latest Par-for-the-Course. I do know that I feel hopeless. This is the one issue that I have learned will never change no matter how hard we fight...no matter how many we kill. The NRA (I mean) Congress tells us that our guns are our identity and that is more important than people's actual lives. This December will mark the fifth year that twenty families in Newtown, Connecticut will not celebrate Christmas with the child they lost. I wonder how this has affected their identity. How can anyone forget that?

I am angry...and there's nothing sadder than feeling anger without hope.