silence is golden

Silence is not always golden. It also in no way means I don't have thoughts or opinions on the events of the past couple of weeks. To say that I'm upset would be an understatement.  To see our country, the late, great America, become a place where nazis march with the clan right alongside them is more than I can bear. To hear the awful chants is more than I ever want to hear. 

I no longer feel safe with my assumption that everyone will be cool. That we all want basically the same things. The most innocuous looking people might be the most hateful. I mean, those marchers wore khakis and carried tiki torches.  

While I don't watch the news 24/7 (I've cut back a lot) I can't just stick my head in the sand, either. All this is affecting me daily. I'm not sleeping, I feel on the verge of screaming at people at work when I feel they are passing the buck and not doing their job or trying to finagle me into doing it. Me, the part timer with no benefits. (I so dislike slackers.)

I also feel like crying at the neediness on social media platforms. (Facebook is the absolute worst.) I want to scream at the attention and “LIKE” seeking whores. Desperately Seeking Validation. As if the approval of (mostly) strangers really means anything. But I hold my tongue. For now.  

I'm feeling anxious and hopeless. And it's different than what I felt the past several months while I was going through my personal stressers. This orange malaise has been slowly building since 9 November. And it's taking over a bit more of my life every day. I am trying so hard to be “normal” and do my job, feed my cat, clean my house, but there's an overwhelming feeling that right around a corner, not too far ahead, things will get much worse before they get better.

And lastly, I wonder if the forty-something man that jumped in front of my train a few weeks ago was bothered by all this. I wonder if the current state of our country was a contributing factor in his suicide. If he didn't want to see things get worse. If he couldn't wait for better days.  

Better days... they cannot come soon enough.

human disconnect
© Trish Korous | 2013