Well, I see that the world is still a dumpster fire. I don’t think I ever expected it to get better, really, but it actually feels like it’s getting worse.
I don’t know anymore how to carry on like everything is normal when it so obviously is not.
Other people seem to be fine with playing pretend. Or maybe they just don’t have as much at stake, particularly with regard to the virus.
To be honest, I really envy the ability to act like everything is normal and will be fine. But that’s never been my strong suit. I don’t have a very powerful imagination and am terrible at trying to immerse myself in a fantasy world.
I do try to find small joys in most days, which I guess is something. But overall, I just live kind of in the shadow of doom.
If I had known that the world would become this much of a dumpster fire, would I have had children? Sadly, I think I still would have because on some very big level, I always expected something like this.
Well, definitely not my husband’s cancer—that totally blindsided me—but yes to all the upheaval and the negative effects of late-stage capitalism.
I guess I have contributed in some small way by raising kids who are very aware of the world and really want to make it better. And I certainly hope that they can and they will. They are so kind and empathetic, which the world desperately needs.
But I also feel profoundly bad about the world they’re inheriting and even worse that they are going to have to lose their father at a young age.
In the meantime, I really feel like I should be doing more but for some reason, I can’t. Dylan moving out has really thrown me for a loop, even though he has such a great opportunity to make it and to become really successful. He wants to study engineering to create improvements for the quality of life for people with cancer. I think he might just be able to do it.
I guess he’s making his life’s mission inspired by what my husband is going through. Why can’t I do the same? Right now, I just feel paralyzed by everything.