Selling Tickets for the Hot Mess Express

I’ve opened this page more times than I can count to write something, anything, about what’s going on in my head, in our world, in my house, in my state, whatever.

I’m having a major case of writer’s block.

My emotions, my thoughts are all over the place. I’m angry, annoyed, frustrated, tired, sad, content at home, trapped, loving the time with my children, ready to sell them to the circus, ready to call a divorce lawyer, happy to have Nate as my partner in this craziness.

I think, to be completely honest, I’m probably not alone in my mood swings, although the anxiety and depression can heighten mine a little bit. I think most of use are overwhelmed, not sure what to say or think, or when we’ll be able to go about our normal routines.

Or, people are the opposite and have so much to say about it all. It’s a conspiracy.  Media is to blame. It’s the Republicans. It’s the Democrats. It’s obviously China and/or Russia.

I’m ready to delete all my social media, because I’m fucking sick of Negative Nancies and Kenny Know-It-Alls. I’m also sick of Facebook games at this time.

To be honest though, what annoys me the most lately is…me.

I’m up. I’m down. I’m angry. I’m hysterical. I’m sleep-deprived. I’m sleeping too much. I’m so damn edgy I’m snapping at my husband and kids. I’m sensory overloaded at almost all times. Nothing lately is making me happy: books, shows, my family, food. And trust me, I’ve tried all the goddamn, fucking, food.

I’m disappointed with how I handle everything.

But my counselor reminded me this morning (Yay! for Telehealth) that we’re all like this right now. We’re all edgy and frustrated or overwhelmed, and people who say they aren’t are likely lying to you. Yeah, my reactions might be more intense, but we’re all struggling. And getting through the day, especially if you’re working from home, parenting, or going out and facing it–or all of the above, means that you’re a fucking warrior.

I have to stop wishing I could be like all the people who are doing projects, learning new hobbies, getting in shape, or living their “best quarantine life.” Because, real talk, they’re not living their best life either. We’re all fucked up. We’re all freaking the fuck out. Or we’re angry because the Chinese DemoRepublicrats clearly are unleashing chemical warfare and brainwashing the media about it.

Whatever, we’re all hot messes. Choose your hot mess.

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