On: Walking Eye-Deep in Hell

I have been numb for the past couple of weeks. A lot of it has been personal, but there is no controlling the world and the world hasn't calmed down to let me recollect myself. There's a hurricane inside of me and a fire outside. Nowhere seems safe and I admit that I am panicked. Mostly, though, I am numb. What I am and who we are as a country seem to topics up in the air.

We stand at the throat of two roads. We are living out the quintessential decision scene in horror movies. The monster beats at the door and the group inside must decide to fight or flee, stick together or split up, hide in the attic or the cellar. There is terror in my heart. I should be angry, but that is not my way. I can only remember being angry once in my lifetime and it was a violent, quiet feeling. I do not wish it upon anyone. It was directed at a friend when he lashed out towards me, and I may never forget that feeling. It has kept me from reconciliation though I forgave him long ago.

Besides that one instance, I have always moved straight to mourning, and that is what I do now. I am sorry, because I know that helps no-one. The anxiety of being in a large, angry crowd squeezes my lungs and makes my palms sweat, even if I am part of that crowd. Even if I know I am safe. I am not sure why am like this, but know that I support those that feel that their rights are at risk. I am writing letters as often as possible, because I am afraid for you. For my friends. For my family. I do not pray, but I pray that you stay safe.

In all honesty, I want to open my virtual door to you, my readers. If you need to vent, ask for help, etc. you can email me at turnneea@gmail.com.

#march #ezrapound #hell #womensrights #lgbtqiap