I am on edge and I need to vent the best way I know how.
I need to somehow clarify and articulate what it is that has me pent up like a pipe about to burst. In my body I feel the tension, every nerve screams.
It's this lockdown. This endless, mind-numbing, soul-sapping lockdown.
It's the not-knowing.
Not knowing when - or if - it will end. There are targets, sure, but who knows when we will reach them. We don't know. Nobody can tell us, really.
It's the sapping sludge of time, as we trudge through each endlessly-repeating turn of the earth.
It's the knowledge that here in Auckland, our fate is in the hands of others, who may or may not take the magic bullet that will release us from this endless exile.
And it's the aggro that I feel swirling in the atmosphere between the vaccine advocates and the vax-averse.
Sometimes I find it hard to breathe with the weight of worry pressing on my chest as friends and family face the choice: to jab or not to jab. For me it was simple, I had nothing to lose. But the choice is not as clear for some. I feel the weight of that.
My heart is heavy for those caught on a knife edge, whose livelihoods are on the line but who are wrestling with valid concerns. My heart is heavy for all of us, and the division that is here among us in our beautiful country. Fingers pointing and blaming, vilifying and attacking, one side against another.
May we all try to walk a mile in another's shoes before we judge. May we listen to each other and try to understand.
The collective goodwill seems to have seeped away. Our communities are suspicious of each other, our community pages report spates of mail-theft and car-breaking, comment sections are more toxic than ever.
Long gone are those early days of "Kia Kaha New Zealand"; the Team of Five Million has become some kind of a bad joke.
I can't watch. It feels like things will never return to "normal" here in Auckland/New Zealand.
A simple trip to the hardware store to pick up the hammer and nails I need to repair my broken gate has become an hour-long wait in the click-and-collect queue behind a hundred other cars at New Lynn Mitre 10.
Online orders warn of shipping delays. All my pajamas have worn through (who bothers getting dressed?) but it will take three weeks to get hold of a new pair. (I placed an order anyway - what choice do I have?)
As I type this I remind myself that it's just a bad day today, that lockdown has gotten to me but really, I'm one of the lucky ones.
At least I have a home and a job and a car. I have friends and family and workmates out there, even if I can't hug them for a while yet.
I miss my fellow-humans.
Sunny days are good days. Last Saturday with the slightly relaxed Level 3 restrictions, it actually felt like a weekend. My bestie Mel and her daughter joined me and mine for a "fire night" - my first non-supermarket-line human contact in months (aside from my kids). I made sangria, we toasted marshmallows and made smores. It felt normal. Socially distanced, masks, outdoors, normal.
Today was not sunny. It's been blustery and grey, the weather reflecting my mood. I feel wound up and tense and on the edge. But when the sun comes out again I will gain a burst of renewed energy and things won't feel so grim.
In the meantime I will focus on some things I am thankful for, like French Toast with nutmeg, maple syrup and cream...
... and silly doggies who watch you put every bite in your mouth hoping you'll share (or at least let them lick the plate).
I am especially thankful for the blessing of friends, workmates and a lovely desk buddy who asked for my address and sent me a "Soul Sister"" candle just because. Bless you, Alex P!
One day, we will be desk buddies again and I will get out of my holey pajamas. (LOL)
Today was just a tense, edgy lockdown angsty day. It's totally normal given the situation and I know I am not the only one feeling it. It will pass, eventually, surely, sometime.
I wrote this to get the yucky blahs out and I feel better now. Wherever you are I hope you're doing OK. Much love to you all xx
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