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Aug. 14th, 2014 10:09 am( Gaeilge )
Doing some bettertoday yesterday. The biggest things today aren't so much the crying, now, as the irrational fears (if I leave the house it will burn to the foundation! the boy will die in a car wreck hundreds of miles from home! Mom will catch ebola in Peru and die!) and the guilt of feeling crappy and breaking down when my friend needs me and has it so much harder. But I managed to get everything together and get out to work, anyway.
Around noon I called Mom just to say hi, and had the weird experience of being told she never thought I got those fears, or at least not anymore, because I always seem like I have it so together. Um. Thanks Mom? I'm more inclined to laugh over that than anything, but it's still weird. And kind of hilarious.
The boy also called this morning at way earlier than I thought he'd even be up to ask me if I wanted anything and to say hi and to say he'd seen people from Ohio. It helped a lot because...
... well, last night I got absolutely shit-all done. I got home, got dinner, settled in on the couch with knitting and writing to work on, and Ferguson MO happened. I then spent the next several hours (till I passed out in mid conversation oops) sitting there alternating between watching Practical Magic for the sake of my blood pressure and watching my twitter feed scroll by detailing the arrest of journalists, the police demanding that everyone stop recording, the attempted forced eviction of all journalists (most did leave), people breaking into homes and firing tear gas canisters into them, people from Gaza giving pointers to the people of Ferguson on how to deal with tear gas. Lots and lots and fucking lots of mil and ex-mil folks looking at pictures and saying "We rolled less heavy than that in Bosnia/Afghanistan/Iraq." I want to throw up now. It was awful, hysterical, terrifying, and I sat there bearing witness to it until I literally passed out, I woke up half an hour later blinking and wondering when I'd closed my eyes.
And that pretty much derailed everything I'd hoped to do that evening, but, you know. Priorities. And ability to cope.
I'm waiting for a death toll from last night. One of the journalists who arrested said he passed by a locked van with someone screaming for medical attention inside, sounding terrified. Police, the journo says, were mocking him.
Welcome to America.
Doing some better
Around noon I called Mom just to say hi, and had the weird experience of being told she never thought I got those fears, or at least not anymore, because I always seem like I have it so together. Um. Thanks Mom? I'm more inclined to laugh over that than anything, but it's still weird. And kind of hilarious.
The boy also called this morning at way earlier than I thought he'd even be up to ask me if I wanted anything and to say hi and to say he'd seen people from Ohio. It helped a lot because...
... well, last night I got absolutely shit-all done. I got home, got dinner, settled in on the couch with knitting and writing to work on, and Ferguson MO happened. I then spent the next several hours (till I passed out in mid conversation oops) sitting there alternating between watching Practical Magic for the sake of my blood pressure and watching my twitter feed scroll by detailing the arrest of journalists, the police demanding that everyone stop recording, the attempted forced eviction of all journalists (most did leave), people breaking into homes and firing tear gas canisters into them, people from Gaza giving pointers to the people of Ferguson on how to deal with tear gas. Lots and lots and fucking lots of mil and ex-mil folks looking at pictures and saying "We rolled less heavy than that in Bosnia/Afghanistan/Iraq." I want to throw up now. It was awful, hysterical, terrifying, and I sat there bearing witness to it until I literally passed out, I woke up half an hour later blinking and wondering when I'd closed my eyes.
And that pretty much derailed everything I'd hoped to do that evening, but, you know. Priorities. And ability to cope.
I'm waiting for a death toll from last night. One of the journalists who arrested said he passed by a locked van with someone screaming for medical attention inside, sounding terrified. Police, the journo says, were mocking him.
Welcome to America.