I was bombarded on Facebook, this morning, with photos from my wedding four years ago. You know that whole “memories” thing Facebook automatically uses to choose random photos and posts from years gone by and then places them at the top of your newsfeed so that it’s the first thing you see when you log in to the app? Yeah, so this morning the first thing I saw was myself in a wedding dress. They’re actually awesome photographs of my loved ones and I and a few of my friends and my brother reminisced on them with me, which, of course, always helps.
Looking back I deem that time in my life my sixth life. If you’ll recall in Nine Lives, I’m going on number eight. And right now, I’m grieving number seven. As the brilliant Elizabeth Gilbert so eloquently put it, and I paraphrase, I am not merely telling a story so much as I am living it therefore I’m choosing to refrain from too much detail at the moment. With that being said, it has been a rough past week and a half. By rough, I mean my anxiety has been through the roof and I haven’t felt this emotionally alone since the immediate aftermath of my mother’s death, a time when David would often opt for staying out all night boozing with his coworker’s rather than come home to be with me.
Self-medicating by wine, dramatic television and finally, melatonin seem to assist in getting me through my nights and my days are sort of a fake it ‘til I make it shit show for anyone who is empathetically attuned. I’ll be all right, though, because I’m always all right. And just for the record, I am not mourning David – the despair I have expressed above has absolutely nothing to do with David.
I often feel like such an asshole for expressing my personal problems at a time like this when my “personal problems” are merely a tiny pinprick in the swollen thumb of the state of this world, of America, in particular. My therapist would remind me that my problems and the world’s problems are not mutually exclusive, however, and in order to make a difference in the grander scheme of things, one must take care of oneself first and foremost.
Nonetheless, I don’t want this to manifest into a woe is me post because my heart is also heavy and my mind is aching with the helplessness I think many of us feel amidst the turmoil of this country. The best I can come up with is something my mama always reiterated to me – basic goodness. I have to believe that kindness and compassion go a long way and I have to spread love. At the end of the day, most importantly, I have to believe that the majority of people possess those very same core values – the same core values that have the power to create the necessary equality, respect and unity that every single one of us deserves.