My brain has been on overload these last few months.
My anxiety levels have been so high I've toyed with the idea of going back on medication.
I tell myself, yes, it's always an issue (my anxiety), but a pandemic does not necessitate the usage of mind (and possibly personality)-altering drugs.
Some days, I actually believe that.
My chest feels constricted when I think of the rising numbers. I don't even need to say which numbers I'm referring to. We all know.
I haven't read about any riots in a bit... mostly because I haven't been reading about anything for a bit. I hate social media, these days. People aren't letting the best in them come out. It's getting ugly out there.
I know there's a lot going on in the world... upcoming election, the blaming of the President for everything bad happening in our country, people stealing stuff from places as a pathetic form of protest, cops being blamed for everything the President isn't being blamed for, people dying from a virus that knows no bounds, people dying from acts of violence and racism, fires burning bigger around me... I know. But I don't want to read about it.
So, I'm not. Not for a while, anyway.
It's too much.
I like living in my own little world where we're still trying to unpack from a recent move. I'm glad we don't have to go out as much (moving is so dang expensive!) and that we're all healthy. I'm glad I have a job that doesn't pay me what I'm worth but didn't stop when the rest of the world did. I'm glad my husband has his job that didn't stop when the rest of the world did. I like my family being home all the time. (I didn't, at first... but now it's going to be hard to see them leave come time for it.)
I have so much to be thankful for; that's my focus, these days. The things that are going right in my own world, not all that's going wrong in the rest of it.
