I’m beginning to feel exhausted. The glamour that is this “unprecedented turn of events” is fading. I prepped for a year and this thing is going on well beyond that, with only hints of an end in sight. I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore, except home, where I also happen to be drowning with a smile on my face (because that’s how responsible “Adulting” trauma survivors function in this sort of environment). I have the opposite of answers. Just trying to manifest my higher self out of this mess of anxiety and depression. The air around me is toxic and yet dull. My boundaries are wearing thin. I feel numb but also like I’m bordering implosion.

I close my eyes and send out little telepathic messages to my long-missed favorite people: “Just a little bit longer…” They clearly can’t hear me. Maybe I should focus harder or diffuse some moon water or something…

The natives have been restless for a while now. Everyone’s losing their minds and I’m only pretending not to. Because, I mean, someone has to be “the rock.” And why wouldn’t that someone be me? It’s hard to put a name to what I’m feeling right now. I might call it “misplaced,” or maybe “uncomfy” (if I’m trying to be cute).

Have I experienced a death this year? A few…but so many have lost so much more. How can I snuggle into my own selfish loss when my skin’s all clammy with guilt? Of course, “loss” doesn’t always mean “death.” Sure, I know people who’ve died this past year, but there’s also my 7-year old’s loss of a year’s worth of his chance at the “normal” childhood I had in mind for him. He’s bored and lonely and we’ve run out of things to do at this point.

He’s not the only one, of course. I’ve lost a year of opportunities to escape every once in a while. There are no breaks in this world. I stumble at the definition for “vacation.” It’s elusive. The meaning of that word has changed to mean “getting to drive around in my car by myself once a week to pick up curbside orders.”

This little experiment we’ve been thrust into, in some ways, is the perfect mix of heaven and hell (if you’re into that sorta thing). It’s just so….unchanging. Like we’re stuck. Like Artax in the Swamp of Sadness. And now I’ve gone and triggered my inner child again…but I digress…

And sure, I have goals. And, OK, fine, I guess I’ve accomplished a few things this year. Even if all that means is that I’ve managed to keep our 3-person pod alive and semi-shelf stable. I am, after all, a ridiculously driven person when I want to be…ADHD aside. Yep, the world proclaimed, “1 year!” and I insisted, “Hold my beer!” while everyone else got squirmy. But now I’m getting squirmy, too.

It’s just been one hell of a year…and it’s not even over yet. And now I feel guilty for even typing that…

Well-established emotional minefields aside, I guess we’re doing OK. It could always be worse and I know outlook is everything.

But, I am seriously starting to lose it. How do I know? I spent most of my 20-minute vacation sobbing in a Whole Foods parking lot today. I’m guessing that’s just part of the game we’re all playing. Wonder if I’ll level up this year…

Anyone else out there feeling really uncomfy right about now?

Just me?