Not Happy
Honestly, as nights go, it's not too bad this second. I'm sitting on the porch, Jayhawks are streaming, writing a post to you all.
But it occurred to me, while sitting through a board meeting via google hangouts this afternoon, that I'm really not happy.
And please note that this is not saying that my mental health is suffering. Mental health issues are often defined as "an inappropriate mental response to a situation," and that's not the case. I think it's perfectly reasonable to be not happy right now (and it's perfectly reasonable for this who's mental health is being affected by the heightened situations). I'm not depressed. I'm just sad.
I'm really worried about my clients and their making it through, and me being able to help them.if I can help them enough.
Patrick's hugs are the best in the world, but I miss hugs from others (especially since it turns out that tween girls are not very huggy).
I miss being able to wander into a business and just kick around and appreciate it and what they have — rather than having to plan around covid opening hours, and if I really *need* the items or it's not worth it, and if they'll have it; heck, I just miss impulse purchases.
I'm incredibly sad about how poorly our society is dealing with systemic racism (on top of health issues, and politics, and everything else) and worried that we as a society will never make it out. I don't even know how to emerge from that.
I'm sad our BLM sign and Empathy signs were stolen from our yard and the 1880 house two down from us is being brutally demolished to make way for some container-modern POS.
I miss arts experiences, so much.
I'm not even sure I know how to have meaningful and interesting conversations with others anymore. When I do talk to people I stand there awkwardly in my mask and don't know what to say.
I miss going out to bars and restaurants and I don't know when I will ever do so again. I miss fun.
I'm terrified we are losing whatever democracy we ever had.
I'm worried I'm not a good mom. Or a good wife. Or a good friend.
I'm not really doing anything very well right now. And how the heck am I going to do my part in trying to make our world a better place if I can't even do the smallest things?
And that's just the tip of the iceberg, really, the things that wake me up and keep me up at night.
What makes you happy right now? I could use a list.
But it occurred to me, while sitting through a board meeting via google hangouts this afternoon, that I'm really not happy.
And please note that this is not saying that my mental health is suffering. Mental health issues are often defined as "an inappropriate mental response to a situation," and that's not the case. I think it's perfectly reasonable to be not happy right now (and it's perfectly reasonable for this who's mental health is being affected by the heightened situations). I'm not depressed. I'm just sad.
I'm really worried about my clients and their making it through, and me being able to help them.if I can help them enough.
Patrick's hugs are the best in the world, but I miss hugs from others (especially since it turns out that tween girls are not very huggy).
I miss being able to wander into a business and just kick around and appreciate it and what they have — rather than having to plan around covid opening hours, and if I really *need* the items or it's not worth it, and if they'll have it; heck, I just miss impulse purchases.
I'm incredibly sad about how poorly our society is dealing with systemic racism (on top of health issues, and politics, and everything else) and worried that we as a society will never make it out. I don't even know how to emerge from that.
I'm sad our BLM sign and Empathy signs were stolen from our yard and the 1880 house two down from us is being brutally demolished to make way for some container-modern POS.
I miss arts experiences, so much.
I'm not even sure I know how to have meaningful and interesting conversations with others anymore. When I do talk to people I stand there awkwardly in my mask and don't know what to say.
I miss going out to bars and restaurants and I don't know when I will ever do so again. I miss fun.
I'm terrified we are losing whatever democracy we ever had.
I'm worried I'm not a good mom. Or a good wife. Or a good friend.
I'm not really doing anything very well right now. And how the heck am I going to do my part in trying to make our world a better place if I can't even do the smallest things?
And that's just the tip of the iceberg, really, the things that wake me up and keep me up at night.
What makes you happy right now? I could use a list.
Comments
People who are moved to action.
The helpers.
Calls from people I haven’t heard from in years.
Seeing the faces and hearing the voices of people whose daily experiences i’ve been pointing to this all along, but they were afraid to speak up.
A little extra sleep in the morning and a chance to check in with what’s going on. This is a privilege.
Listening to the people around me and hearing what they choose to say bothers them, what makes them afraid, how they’re handling change.
Talking with my children more than we did when we were all ”so busy.” Seeing the adults they’re going to be develop and emerge.
The fact that they still take my hand when we go for a walk.
Having a governor with a plan we can follow toward safe recovery.
There are friends with differing perspectives and experiences than mine.
There are places I can point to for suggestions on how to get through the different types of ‘it all.’
A new sharing with our neighbors in different ways.
Awareness that you, Bethany, are still there, with your expertise and your dedication, for so many of the people and organizations I really care about.
The daily joys that tell me we still have hope for happiness.
You are a bright beacon in my world and want you to know that.
What makes me happy?
Intelligent conversations with people who are compassionate and kind and who look toward the future.
My dogs.
Thoughts about what the future could be.
Water running in streams.
The seasons.
People nodding or waving toward one another.
Maybe that little camper that I hope to get someday.
Fresh strawberries.
Kindness, hard questions, honest conversations.
Sending you a virtual hug.