This Fever I Have

Sorry I’ve been away so much these last months. It’s like I’ve been a little ill. You know, like when you have a low grade fever but it’s not enough to send you to bed but you wish you could climb between the sheets and sleep until it goes away? That’s the way I’ve been feeling. For almost 2 years.

But I’m not sick. I’m angry. That’s what’s heating me up, twisting like a knot in my chest. Fury is constantly simmering in my system, sometimes spurting and steaming like my old radiators in winter. It’s not a good way to be and I don’t know how to shake it. Worse, I am unable to turn away from the wrecking ball. I regularly check the latest news of the backward steps or outright assaults on civil rights, the environment, healthcare, veterans, poor and working class people, babies separated from their parents (last count – over 500 children still not reunited), outright racism, that continues everyday under this dreadful administration.

The problem is, I don’t know what to do with my fury and sometimes, like here, it’s been debilitating. I lack the political eloquence and appetite to write about it. I am a sputterer and that’s not useful. Engaging in these discussions with someone who is (so bewildering!) on THAT side, is like road rage – it’s a no-win situation. And too late. He was successfully installed and the damage is well underway. So if you had a role in this, I’m pretty damn mad at you too, I won’t lie. I don’t know what to do with that either.

So I haven’t been able to share my usual passages of lovely morning walks or garden capers. I’ve been paralyzed and that makes me mad too. Over the years this blog is where I share meditations, stories, challenges of my life. It’s a personal blog – begun as good practice for maybe one day (or not) putting my memoir out there and I have come to love it. It’s lovely to have readers and people who cheer me on, to say, yeah – I hear you. Being part of a cyber blogging community feels rich. And, it gets me writing regularly. That is until I hit this roadblock.

But the hell with it. Today I’m going to put this out there and figure out where to go from here. That’s all we can do, isn’t it?  And come November — let’s vote the bastards out.

23 thoughts on “This Fever I Have”

  1. I’m with you, Tricia. Paralyzed with anger and grief over the turn of events in the last two years. Trying to find ways to get through this. Let’s do it together.

  2. Hey girl. You know I hear ya.

    For me, the hardest part is Coming to terms with the fact that around 30-40 % of Americans are either a) all-out racists/anti-immigrant, anti-women, anti-gay haters, b) fraught with so much fear and anger over a world changing so fast beyond anything they ever imagined, much less thought would happen in their lifetime (think buggies to airplanes, and the loss of your world) that they are fighting it all tooth and nail, c) are amoral and only care about whatever puts more money in their pockets, d) are amoral psychopaths who just like him, e) are secretly longing for the end of democracy because all this freedom makes them feel threatened (a subset of b, or c or d, actually), f) are really really mentally impaired and think whatever someone else tells them to think, or g) all of the above.

    I don’t see what you’re so worried about.

    Actually, I do. And it makes me crazy! And all I can think to do, is to keep fighting for the education of the electorate—and perhaps the passage of time, and the dying off of a generation born before Sesame Street.

    And then, if you’re not an activist, give what little time or $ you can to an organization you believe in, and encourage your friends to do the same.

    And here’s a relatively simple action: register people to bote. Get a clipboard and some forms and find out from the CT Secy of State’s office what the deadlines and rules are, and go sign people up—a couple of hours a week, in front of a busstop or bookstore 😉 or somewhere people of color congregate.

    In Arkansas, we (the ACLU) have AR specific information on how to get re-enfranchised if you’re a convicted felon (a simple form no one hands these folks as they’re leaving prison, oddly enough), and how to vote if you’re homeless, in addition to other info, like deadlines and how to find your precinct.

    Maybe the ACLU of CT or even the SOS’s office has similar stuff.

    Here’s our link:

    And then get in the garden and kill some weeds. You won’t put on weight, get a hangover, or go to jail.

    And gods help us, we’ll make it. Xxxooo.

    Forever yours

  3. Tall order! As much as I’d like to turn a blind eye to what’s happening, we must stay informed and vocal, but it’s important to not be constantly under siege. For me that means trying to look at news only once a day instead of constantly checking to see what drama is unfolding. And not in the morning, because that makes my heart palpitate for the whole day. I am trying to go to music and art sites in the morning. Sometimes I watch animal videos on Instagram. It sounds pathetic, but watching elephants in the wild or exotic birds flying makes my heart sing. I’m avoiding Facebook posts because I don’t like conflict and am just going there to take the temperature of the folks, mainly writers, I’m friends with. I’m trying to read even more than I normally do. Translated works, books by foreign authors that take place in foreign countries so I don’t have to think about our country 24/7. I’ve stepped up my exercise too which really helps me unwind. Unfortunately, I still am angry at the folks who voted for …. I can’t even say his name….but I think it’s important to stay a little bit angry and channel that emotion into stuff where I can make a difference – local politics and causes. I see that you are already doing that big time. I think we all feel better when we know we are making the world a better place. Let’s try to reach out to each other on a regular basis. Leave little expressions of joy and courage on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook or where ever we see each other. xxx

  4. Oh boy, am I there. Desperate. Humiliated by our collective impotence in the face of this craven, shameless, self-serving, greedy-beyond-greed, criminal-and-proud-of-it crew. I want to invite everyone over to figure out right now how to prevent Kavanaugh from being barreled through. I want to stop hearing the now-meaningless words “unprecedented” and “dangerous.” I want to….oh, you know. Oh—and as I write this, a shooting in Jacksonville. But hey, guns aren’t the problem, right?

  5. I am right there with you. Too bad voting the bastards out won’t get rid of the extreme right wing judiciary, most of whom will be in place for the rest of my life….

  6. Trish-I am right there with you-I have found that I just have to try and take it a minute at a time- and it is very hard to do this-I dont think we can focus on the past or the future-we can only effect what is right in front of us-we cant miss out on the here and now-by doing this we can better effect change and sieze the unexpected opportunties and encounters that come our way -xoxo

  7. I love this, Kathie. I’ve been like a wobbly toy that just needs to center and remember this.

  8. There was an Indian standup comic who awhile back astutely pointed out Trump is our country’s arranged marriage. Our parents picked him out for us, which is only half true in my case. I hope writing this is cathartic for you.

  9. Hello dear Tricia. This was a powerful reflection of my rage and frustration too. I even love your forthright statement of anger towards those who still find they can turn their back on the country’s dignity and the planet’s future to support this vile, deranged, democracy-smashing toddler. Is it really just the money? Shame….Barcelona (the restaurant) has stopped using straws as a little step toward that problem. Our server told us a group yelled at her for 20 minutes when she couldn’t supply them with the straws they so urgently desired. When she explained the environmental motivation, they said, “We won’t be here by the time it really matters, so we don’t give a god damn….” So….that’s who’s out there. So twisted with anger that they’ll yell at this poor girl over a straw, and untouched by our responsibility to future generations. Miss you. XXOO

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