I don’t have a why. I don’t know why I seem to stop blogging every year around this time. Yes, The Holidays Are Hard. Yes, particularly hard when you’re estranged from a family member. But I don’t miss my dad. Something is just off. I’m trying to sit with that, and be ok with it. Things are hard. I don’t feel like writing. I don’t feel like doing a lot of things. Am I depressed? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m not “at my best,” and This Too Shall Pass, and all those things–they’re true. I just want to be in the dark place I’m in, right now. It’s ok. It really is. My heart is hurting for the way this country murders people of color and refuses to even hold a trial for their murderers. My heart is hurting for friends and family who are in tough places. My heart glows for my beautiful family, our beautiful boy, my loving partner. It’s all pretty appropriate. I’m tired, and I don’t have many words for all the reasons why. But it’s been bothering me that I haven’t said anything.
I’m heartbroken for the families of the murdered black men and boys, and for this entire country, for everyone poisoned by their murders, and everything that lead to their murders, and the failure to show that those acts have any consequences.
That needs to be said.
I want to be quiet, now.