In the Present Tense
Tense/ tens/ adjective: 1) stretched tight or rigid 2) unable to relax because of nervousness or anxiety. verb: 1) to flex, as in a muscle 2) to make tight or rigid. noun: 1) a set of forms taken by a verb, indicating the timing of the action
I am in the present tense.
Usually, I wait until I have made it to the end of a difficult journey before I tell the story. I am not afraid to share my weaknesses and failures, but only from the safety of the other side — when I have come out of the darkness. When I have found a solution. When I can tout my new found wisdom — hard won on the back of a tiger, ridden through a wilderness of self-loathing and despair. Not so, this time.
I am not okay.
A deep and unending sadness pervades my soul and darkens even happy moments. My body is wracked with grief — settled into the marrow of my bones. My limbs, heavy as lead, drag me deep into a seemingly endless sea of suffering. I weep for lost lives and homes, pain endured, opportunities vanished, dreams deferred. Surrounded by countless examples of cruelty, selfishness, deception, lies. My heart, torn from my chest, is forced to bear witness to the destruction of norms and integrity.
I am overwhelmed.
We are living through compound crises. A disease rampages through humanity, bringing death and debility, and loss of income. Families are torn apart. Children are stalled as they try to learn and grow. Adults abandon ambitions and halt careers. I am drowning in responsibility, with little hope for reward or satisfaction. I am the mother, the daughter, the wife, the teacher, the cook, the maid, the shopper. I am the authority figure, the consoler, the entertainer, the problem solver, the referee, the planner. My family looks to me to be all powerful in a world where nothing is in my control.
I am embarrassed.
I have gorgeous, talented children, whom I yell at too often. I have a beautiful home and property where I am lucky to be safe from the threats of the world outside, yet I feel trapped. I have a handsome, caring husband, whom I forget to thank and hug too rarely. I am white. I have income. I have education. I have friends. I have an embarrassment of riches, which makes me all the more embarrassed to be depressed.
I am doing what I can.
They say we should take this time to appreciate the little things. We should accomplish things we wouldn’t have been able to do, had life not sent us all in a different direction. We should learn a language, start a hobby, clean out the basement, catch up on old movies, commit to an exercise routine. We should. We really, really should. I probably won’t do what I should. When it is over, I hope to be able to say that I did what I could.
In the present tense.
Originally published at http://rebeccafullerdotblog.wordpress.com on February 6, 2021.