As you know, I update this blog weekly. Sometimes I’m lucky, and something interesting has happened, or I’m inspired to share something. I’d say 50 to 75 percent of the time, I’m texting my friends or Dean asking, “What should I write about this week?”

This morning, Dean had several suggestions, from Roe v. Wade—which I’ve already done recently—to some of the other atrocities occurring all around us constantly. And while I do have strong opinions on those things, the idea of spending several hours mired in them, writing about them, turned my stomach. Yes, sometimes I feel I have a responsibility to say something, as I did when Roe v. Wade first came under threat. (Or when we were first made aware of it.) I felt like I had a valid perspective and I needed to say something about it.

Not only are all of these things being screamed about by everyone everywhere already, not only did I not feel like I had a unique perspective to add, nor did I lack that drive I did several weeks ago where it just had to come out, but I was paralyzed and sick by the very idea of diving in. I’m working to forgive myself for that.

Equality. You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

I know I’m not alone in feeling aswirl in a relentless sea of bullshit, grasping at driftwood, etc., so this is what we’re talking about today. Addressing the guilt you may feel for desperately wanting to close your eyes and take a breath when you know this is an ongoing fight that needs every single body.

After Roe v. Wade was overturned, Dean asked me how I felt and if I wanted to talk about anything. Very nice of him. The thing is, I felt numb. I replayed all of the times I’ve been objectified, treated as less, harassed, etc. since I was a kid. Was I disappointed? Yes. Was I angry? Hell yes. Had I reached capacity? At that moment, absolutely. At that moment, I had no further fucks to give. The well was dry. I wanted a big glass of wine and to dive in to my current WIP about fairies on a completely different planet that is not Earth. (They have spaceships. Earth has been obliterated. I like being there. There I control all the terrible things that happen, but the good guys will win in the end. Or if they don’t, there will at least be a hope that they might win in the sequel. Haven’t decided about that yet.)

Shame on me for hiding? Shame on me for ‘turning away?’ That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. But I beat myself up a lot about many things. (Entry for another time. Maybe.) I didn’t have it in me to do that either. And I think it’s okay. Hear me out.

This is what ‘inside’ Meredith looks like.

I like the analogy about the oxygen masks dropping down in the event of an airplane emergency. You’re instructed to take care of yourself before assisting others. This doesn’t mean you throw your mask on, then drop your eye pillow over your eyes, and leave the kid next to you to sink or swim, it just means make sure you’re getting oxygen first.

This morning Dean and I were shooting each other texts about the latest breaking news. It was fast and furious today. As I guess it is every day lately. Finally, I said, “I can’t. I’m done with depressing news until after lunch.” This doesn’t mean I’m checked out. This doesn’t mean I’m not going to look for ways in which I can effectively do something about at least one or the horrid things going on. (Seriously, there’s so much to choose from right now.) It just means I need a minute.

So, if you find yourself reading a breaking news email, then scrolling Facebook mindlessly for a few minutes, (then getting assailed with more political posts, so you move to the next social platform) or feel the need to binge-watch Bob Ross painting happy little trees at the end of the day, or suddenly want to re-watch old movies or shows or re-read books where you already know what’s going to happen, give yourself a break and recognize that you’re coping.

I sometimes wish I could get out there with a sword and just start hacking away at something physical—pro-tip, pruning and weeding, just saying—but I can’t. I can’t even go for a run right now because I’m dealing with an injury that’s sidelined me since March and I’m dying for my normal physical release. So I do what I can. I don’t beat myself up for taking the occasionally breath, because I believe this is going to get worse before it gets better, and we need to stay in.

Do what you need to do to enjoy being a living, breathing, human being at this moment. Steal those little pockets of joy. Keep striving toward your personal goals. Take the occasional break when you need to. Because I think we’ll need our energy. It’s going to be a long road.

Managing the influx of horrible news.