Aren't You Exhausted?
[Listen to an audio version of this blog HERE.]
I received an email last week that my workplace is preparing for civil unrest. What might be causing civil unrest? Nothing more than our presidential election, which, as of this writing, has not yet been decided. Biden is leading but votes in some crucial states, such as Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, are yet to be counted. I stayed up with my roommate to watch election coverage and felt stuck to my couch. Immobile. I am so fucking exhausted.
Aren't you tired of all the vitriol and constant dogmatism? Aren't you exhausted by oblique acquaintances arguing on Facebook. You won't change their minds, by the way, even if you present an airtight argument. Aren't you tired of trying to change people who will not be changed in a system that has been constructed to cause division? Aren't you simply, fucking tired? I was at a bar the other week watching a football game, which would be a normal experience at any other time, but now, during COVID, it felt novel. I sat next to an elderly gentleman with a "Keep America Great" Trump 2020 hat. I smiled at him and blithely looked away. I could have felt shocked or annoyed or despair, but I chose to feel nothing. Why? Because feeling nothing is easier than feeling hopeless.
In 2016, I cried all night when Trump won the election. Not because I was personally affected that much (hello, privilege), but because I had more hope in humanity than I should have. It felt akin to being rejected by a romantic partner, but 100,000 times worse. A romantic partner is just one person, after all. I was disappointed in America, a place I simultaneously love. This might be how a mother feels when her child turns out to be a criminal or otherwise shit person. Love, but profound disappointment. How could this place we all are a part of building, hurt us so much? When we lose faith in the institutions that were created serve us and make our country better, we lose faith in everyone. I found myself not trusting strangers, and not for any reason. Instead of waiting to revoke trust after someone had proven themselves distrustful, I simply assumed the worst. This is easier too, than hoping for the best. "Hope for the best but prepare for the worst" is a common adage, but falls short when you don't have a clear idea of what the worst could be.
Aren't you tired of the emotional roulette that has categorized 2020? Our nation has, for the third time in one year, boarded up storefronts, stockpiled tear gas, and prepared for civil unrest. We can't get along, we simply can't. Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired of misinformation, masks, staying home, unemployment? Aren't you tired of hearing bad news, all day, everyday? Aren't you tired of feeling stressed and sleeping poorly and waiting for the tide to turn only to be swept away by another current of bad news and disaster (real and fabricated); anger and hatred and widespread distrust?
Aren't you simply, fucking tired?
The big tired began in March and has relentlessly continued. Natural disasters, civil unrest, a contentious election, death and sickness and political grandstanding. Confusion and fatigue. We are all, suddenly, health experts. We are all, suddenly, political commentators, citing half-baked information and indulging in conspiracy theories.
This blog is political, but it's not. I am one of the people lucky enough to remain relatively unaffected by who wins the presidency. I'm not poor, but I'm not rich. I have a good job with good insurance. I'm a single white woman, widely trusted and inconspicuous. In some ways, it would be easy to not care about the political landscape of our country. To cite my own mental health and personal preservation as a reason to disengage. It would be easy to simply not vote, not do hours of research on my local and state politicians. It would be easy to not care. I do care, though, which is why I'm so goddamn tired.
I care, deeply, about human rights. About safeguarding good people against hatred and unnecessary violence. About safeguarding businesses from policies that would, to put it bluntly, screw them over. I care that our roads are maintained and our neighborhoods are safe. I care that our prison system is broken, that racial profiling still occurs, that sexism persists, that child trafficking has increased, that domestic violence and suicide have skyrocketed in recent months and that thousands of people have died due to COVID-19. I care that our current president is a narcissistic monster doing a very poor job of acting like a person. Which is why I voted for Joe Biden, and why I stayed up late, nervously watching polls trickle in. Why I fell asleep with the taste of 2016 bitter beneath my tongue. I hold no hatred for anyone who voted red.
I am simply, fucking tired.
P.S. I wrote a poem for election day, co-opting my mantra for wider use.
Mantra Poem
I am strong
I am capable
nothing can bring me down
nothing can bring me down
nothing
can
bring
me
down
I am strong
I am capable
you can try to hurt me I’ll just smile
you can try to break me down
but I’ve got a secret confidence
that comes from sweat and grit
and not giving up on me
see
I was born into nothing
no silver spoons or private schools
no trophies for just showing up
luck doesn’t live in these bones
we find resilience
in being told no
this door isn’t open
the windows are locked
so we’ll come down the chimney
jimmy the lock
break down the door
crack the glass ceiling
we were not born
to be quiet and meek
we are strong
we are capable
nothing can bring us down
nothing can bring us down
nothing
can
bring
us
down
not a man in a white house on a hill
not the hatred of those
who would kill what we stand for
we are the land of the free
watch us rise above everything
the cruelty and taunting
the murder and heartache
love is a word
we haven’t heard in years
nothing can bring us down
do you hear me?
I was born into nothing
made myself something
learned to love hard
and fight for what’s right
tonight
I need you
to repeat after me
we are strong
we are capable
nothing can bring us down
nothing can bring us down
nothing
can
bring
us
down
xoxo
Sarah Rose