I want to be with people, but I don’t want to be with people

On living through a pandemic, mass shootings, and genocide

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Exercise Studio. Paris. 1939. (Source: gallica.bnf.fr)

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I am struggling (aren’t we all?). I have felt a strong current of unhappiness for about a year and half now. It has only progressed more. It feels like I am sinking in a deep, dark sparkling sea. I am probably “depressed.” Knowing this, doesn’t help.

I’m unhappy for many reasons, but the broadest is that I don’t have a life I love. Not yet, anyway. How can I, given what is happening in the world?

I feel unfulfilled, unsatisfied, unhappy in all aspects of my life right now from work to relationships and everything in between. I am trying to just be with my feelings, but it’s so hard to not wish for change—not even just in my life, but change for the world.

With the deluge of genocide, mass shootings, Covid deniers (and people who just stopped caring and the loneliness I’ve felt with that), and capitalism in general, I have many reasons to be depressed. Watching a genocide in real time that your government is aiding in feels surreal. I remind myself that I have seen it before as it happened (and continues to happen) to Indigenous people in the U.S. The genocide of Palestinians is just the first to be broadcasted on social media. It is necessary to see the images across our feeds. It is necessary for us to not look away. It doesn’t mean it’s easy, and I find myself resentful and angry at the fact that we are supposed to continue going to work like nothing is happening. That is the “American” way.

I have been thinking about (and trying to grieve) the last few years, especially since I live in a country that makes it so damn hard to tend to one’s grief. It feels radical to actually try to bring in pacing to this moment. I have lost a great deal due to the pandemic. I am not the same person I was. I don’t have friends locally. I don’t have any kind of social life. I have largely become a shut-in, which doesn’t feel all bad, but it gets isolating, especially knowing/seeing people are just out doing any and everything. I don’t trust non-Covid-cautious people with my body. I don’t trust people who stopped wearing a mask with my body. There aren’t many left to trust and feel safe with—including supposed leftists.

I want to be with people, but I don’t want to be with people.

I have developed a social anxiety that I have never had before. My illness phobia has gotten darker, deeper, other worldly. I have had to face trauma from my childhood as I endure uncomfortable medical issues that are not life-threatening (thankfully), but still overwhelming to a body that has been traumatized by the Medical Industrial Complex. (If it sounds a bit vague, it’s because it’s really not dire, and I am okay, but struggling with flashbacks, etc).

I don’t like going out much due to the pandemic, but also because of the potential for a mass shooting. I work on a university campus in the Gender & Women’s Studies department, and I worry often about some white boy with an axe to grind coming here with a gun. I don’t think it’s paranoia, when this is sadly a very real possibility in the country that I live in. Being forced to be onsite three days a week is incongruent to my nervous system and what it needs. I don’t like overriding my nervous system, but a girl’s gotta get paid.

Some might say I’m “living in fear,” but I’m actually living in survival mode—and have been since I was a child. It’s all I know. On a good day, I can go outside, be with the trees and the fallen leaves, and breathe and feel how big life is. This is not always within my capacity, though.

If this feels like it’s all over the place, it’s because it is. I am all over the place.

The current state of the world is untenable. I am trying to remember the words of Mariame Kaba, “Hope is a discipline.” I am trying to go down avenues of hope instead of despair. I am trying to find respair, the return of hope—after a period of despair. I learned of the 14th Century word from a 2017 article in The Economist. It feels fitting, but also unreachable in the moment.

This period of despair doesn’t seem like it’s done yet. It feels like it has more to give. I am praying that it leaves soon. I am praying that we can all arise from its ashes anew any day now. I am hoping, which is to say, I am praying. That’s all I can do.

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🫀 Mood Board for the Week

1. “In Grief and Solidarity”: A Statement of Solidarity With Palestine

2. Find a protest to attend to show your support of Palestine here

3. Stop Gaza Genocide Now toolkit

4. The Point of Politics is to Stop This -

   Hamilton Nolan

5. Practicing New Worlds in a Time of Collapse -

   Kelly Hayes

6. This quote from Britney Spears’ new book: “Why did everyone treat me, even when I was a teenager, like I was dangerous?”

7. ICYMI: In this month’s “Ask Guerrilla Femme,” I answered a question about my writing process:

8. LAST CALL! I’m offering my first ever online class! It’s called Digital Violence & The Nervous System. It’s on Oct. 29 for 2 hours, $35 (sliding scale), and you will receive a recording even if you can’t show up live! Also, Black, Indigenous and other POC get in free! Read more about it and sign up here!

   

9. A song for the moment 💔