There was time when I was fully committed to blogging. I’ve never been able to get that back. At first, it was because I went back to school, and I got busy. Then it was just pure stress, as I tried to finish my last semester while caring for my mother, who was dying of cancer. And soon on the heels of that, my father died. I was barely functioning in those days, and by then, the habit was broken. It’s made it a lot easier to push it aside when I’m writing or editing another’s manuscript… I’m too busy, I’ve got too much on my plate. And the last few years… they have really sucked out my creative muse, both for blogging and for my own writing. Most of the time, when I need escapism, I’ve been falling into the pages of a book. But I remember how therapeutic my blog once felt, and I miss that. I need to reframe the practice as self-care, than another thing to cross off my to-do list.
The truth is… I’m just mentally exhausted. From a combination of things. Part of it is my ever-present pain, although I’ve started a new pain management plan, so there’s at least a little hope in that area. And part of it is the fallout from having had COVID. When I actively had it, it wasn’t too bad. Some body aches, but mostly and intense amount of brain fog and hardcore fatigue. The aftermath has been worse. Long COVID bites ass. The lingering brain fog doesn’t help the creative process. Nor does the also lingering fatigue. I’m wiped out by everything. I have no energy whatsoever. And on top of that is the lung fallout. Easy breathing is something I will never underestimate again. If I exert myself even a little too much, I’m gasping for air. Not fun.
But the majority of my exhaustion is from the state of the world. There are days when I’m just baffled by humanity’s capacity for hatred. I can’t understand it. Simply because one’s skin is a different color than their own. Simply because love exists between same-sex partners. Simply because one might identify as male, female, transfem, transmasc, nonbinary. Simply because one might use pronouns you don’t understand.
Why does that hate exist? Does another person’s skin color matter one iota to your daily life? Of course not. Does the fact that a man might love another man, or a woman might love another woman, affect your daily life in any way? Of course not. Does one’s gender identity in any way affect your life? Of course not. Does it make a difference to your life if someone prefers they/them pronouns? Of course not.
The same could be applied to the current fight about women’s autonomy. Does a woman’s choice affect your life in any real way? Of course not. So why is it any of your business what she does or doesn’t do with her own body? Let me answer that. It isn’t.
These are the reasons why I’ve always struggled with organized religion. I was a baptized Episcopalian, and our church was fairly liberal, as churches go. But I also was a teen in the 1980s… during the height of the AIDS epidemic. The amount of anti-LGBTQIA+ hatred and ignorance I saw was life-altering, and it religion was often used as a weapon in that fight. It changed me. Today’s climate hasn’t helped that feeling. Religion has been turned into a weapon, a battering ram to smash against anyone who is different. I’m not okay with that. I don’t give a damn what someone’s faith is…. they do not have the right to use it as an excuse to tell others how to live their lives. I will gladly die on that hill.
I’m exhausted by a world that seems to want to fuel itself on hate.