Woke Up To This

Tears are forming just looking at the first line of my last post.

“Today I voted in what I believe is the most important election in my lifetime.”

Still believe it. More than ever.

I’m about to take a social media hiatus right now for sanity’s sake, despite feeling tremendous gratitude to all my friends there – both the ones I know in real life, and those who live oceans away. It’s just too much for my senses right now. I need some quiet to think, reflect, and weep.

It’s funny, I never thought I’d love and treasure Facebook the way I do. There is so much freaking love and solidarity and compassion in my feed it’s unreal. Maybe in part because I came to the FB party super late, and most of the people are actual friends, or people I’d like to be friends with, and almost all of them share my views about things like, for example, politics and feminism. It sure makes easy reading, let me tell you.

My friends on FB got me through this election. They got me through those train wreck debates and all the ugliness that came before and after. I was on FB during the 3rd debate and I can’t tell you how much it helped. My husband and I were in the room together of course, but I also felt like I had dozens of friends whispering in my ear and passing me notes.

We’re in this together, you all said to me via funny jokes and serious commentary.

I felt so understood and cared for and seen. Just like I did last night and this morning.

Thank you.

Stepping away is not about that, but about taking care of myself during this grief.

Because I am totally grieving right now.

It started last night, around 11pm, when I shut down the internet and tried to fall asleep. I felt like someone had scraped all my insides out. My heart and chest felt hollow, empty.

The feeling was familiar because it’s exactly how I felt the morning after my mom died. When I shared this with my husband he agreed, saying that his emptiness feels similar to the global grief he felt after 9/11. The world is different. Or actually it isn’t. The world is the same, we’re just seeing it differently.

Regardless. My heart is broken. Having to tell my daughter this morning broke it all over again. Her hopeful face crumbled. I watched it crumble and then she cried. I had spent the previous hour practicing what I would say to her after reading an article online, but before I could open my mouth I started crying again.

I hugged her tightly. I said, “I know, me too.”

hillary-for-president-poster

My daughter made this the other day.

We talked after our tears slowed, and we’ll talk more tonight. Really, our conversation is just beginning. My husband woke up soon after and found out the news from our faces. He was just as crushed.

All day I’ve been cycling through sadness, disbelief, and anger. I’m also crying, a lot. In the car I screamed  so loudly my whole body went rigid. My heart keeps on breaking.

I told my husband that we cry now, and then we fight. I believe this. I’m not down for the count. But I am down. I don’t want to hear a thing about giving Trump a chance right now. I’m also not ready to put on my gloves and get into the ring, yet.

So, for now, I’m just going to grieve.

Sending love to everyone else in the trenches, or wherever you find yourself in the aftermath of this election.

P.S. Thank you to whoever took down the Trump signs near the intersection by my house. I literally was ready to pull over and rip them out myself (I just can’t bear to see them so close to home) but you beat me to it.

Advertisements

20 thoughts on “Woke Up To This

  1. I cried myself to sleep last night, and today has been more of the same; tears that get triggered very easily. When your dad came in, I asked how your daughter was (I know he was worried about her) and the tears started rolling down my face again. I am devastated and so so afraid.

    I’m a huge news reader, but I can’t today; I’m too raw at this point. I feel like I”m in mourning; mourning what was, what could have been, and mourning the belief that the hate wasn’t as bad as everyone said. I was wrong; it’s actually worse.

    Like

    • Jackie, you are so sweet to think of Emma. She had a hard time this morning, but she’ll be ok. I feel like its us grown ups who are in worse shape today! I am devastated and afraid, too. Take care of yourself as best as you can. Trust your intuition and stay away from the news until you feel able. Do you read or follow Glennon Doyle Melton? I find her words on Instagram helpful. This morning she wrote, “What are we gonna do if this goes to Trump? We’re gonna get up. We’re gonna get some coffee. We’re gonna go back to work.” For me, right now, back to work means taking care of myself and my kids. It’s all I can do. Sending you love. xo

      Like

  2. Dana even here in Australia my daughter and I were shocked to hear the news but I have just finished watching House of Cards and I wondered how close to the truth that show is. Money and power two things that probably helped. My daughter began googling Trumps beliefs and comments and was appalled that such a person could become the next United States President. Grieve and then join together strong in your own beliefs he does not define you or your country. We have had our share of weak Prime ministers and we have seen them come and go.

    Like

    • Thank you so much, Kath. It’s shocking all over. I stopped watching House of Cards in season 1 because I found it too scary! I’m sure money and power has everything to do with much of politics. It is appalling that he is president. Never before had I zero respect for a winning candidate, at the very least, as a human being. I’m trying to keep breathing and keep it in perspective, but it just feels so dire right now.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Dana, if I had to have a conversation with my daughter about this election… Oh… Let’s just say that I’m glad that she’s only 3 and doesn’t understand what’s going on. Your ability to talk with your daughter and love her through this awful day speaks volumes to your strength as a mother. You give me hope.

    Hugs to you. Be well.

    Like

  4. I cried after having to tell Scarlet, and then dropping Des off at preschool and seeing so many other fellow parents cry. What a loss. Grieving is taking many forms.
    XOXO

    Like

  5. Pingback: Going to Work – writing at the table

  6. Pingback: Choosing Discomfort: Time to March – writing at the table

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s