Blowing off the dust

It's been the better part of three years....a long three years of Trumpian dystopia. Never thought sci-fi would become real  life. After the election, I wrote daily then just a few times a week, then none. It was too debilitating to keep up the writing. News happened too fast and became too outrageous. I began watching MSNBC every night, aghast at what has befallen my country.

The first three months after the election I found myself randomly crying. I drank almost daily. Then my doctor had a talk with me about blood sugar and cholesterol and I stopped. Sober was harder, but so be it.

So for three years I have read. Watched. Worked in my therapy room to help clients who likewise struggled with the crazy around us. We still shake our heads, wonder if one day those of us that are gay, trans, Hispanic might find ourselves rounded up.

Tonight I deleted 60 blog posts written after the election. I felt so bitter, so  shocked, so angry that those posts were the way I found to survive the crazy. Today I feel less desperate, but just as certain of disaster. All of the damage done cannot be healed  in my lifetime. Nevertheless, I have put one foot in front of the other and will continue to do.

So I am going back to writing, now and again, about all things in my heart. I am not going to research and write the kind of posts I did before the election, but I  will  return to thoughts, struggles, and insights. I miss writing. Indeed, I resent the political climate that so overwhelmed me that it silenced my voice.