The Struggle is Real

I’m having a time right now… I’m just not myself. I’m not interested in cooking, or baking, or eating, or reading, or homework, or listening to books and music, or even watching Netflix.

Coffee I haven’t given up on.

I mean, obviously I’m doing those things (well, except cooking). But I’m just not feeling any of it. I’m not inspired or motivated, and it’s such a far cry from where I was a few weeks ago. Thank god I did a lot of my homework already, jeesh.

Some of this has to be weather, right? It’s cold and this time of year is always a bit of a downer. The grey rainy gloom of the PNW can’t help, either. And then there’s this week’s PMS.

Oh, and that class this week where I learned all about how the Catholic church (and other churches) executed a genocide of lives and culture of the Indigenous peoples of Canada. [Side note: Pope Frank NEEDS to apologize for that, stat.]

But honestly, I think a lot of it is sadness over terrorist attacks, and sadness that, from here, it seems that most of America has no interest in helping refugees or helping anyone. The self-interest is strong. I mean, this is the epitome of the parable about the good Samaritan, right? I know there are concerns, but how can so many leaders blatantly refuse their otherwise-celebrated-and-preached Christian beliefs? They were already pretending the country wasn’t built on freedom from persecution, but now they’re pretending their concern is limited to those who are deemed safe or worthy.

I don’t have answers. I don’t know the right route.

I do know I’m embarrassed about being American sometimes here. I do know I’m ashamed that our presidential candidates can’t put states in the right places on a map, and they threaten to close mosques and build walls and keep people out of the country. I do know that none of those things are right. And  sometimes I’m scared and sometimes that’s hard.


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