More paranoia

I’m running a low-grade fever, around 100F. I don’t know if maybe it’s an early Covid symptom and I caught it a week ago when we were moving Dylan into the dorms.

I had another day away from the news, which was good, but I’m realizing that all social media might be bad for me, too.

I can’t seem to escape the awareness that at least half the population doesn’t care enough about me to try to protect my health and my husband’s health.

I also have been dwelling a lot about where to live when my husband’s gone, which is pointless because I don’t know when that will be, where my kids will be, etc.

But I’m increasingly feeling like I don’t want Texas to be my future. I just don’t know what would be better instead.

I’m trying to force my brain to slow down, to stay in the present moment, instead of worrying about the future. But that’s really hard to do, both because the future is uncertain and also the present is pretty scary, too.

Vampire Weekend put this feeling really well: I don’t wanna live like this but I don’t wanna die.

It’s just trying to put one foot in front of the other for now. I can’t see the future—nor can I see even wanting to be alive without J. But I guess at some point, I’ll have to find my reason. It’s really hard not to just give up on myself now, proactively.

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