One of my biggest struggles during the past year has been keeping a healthy perspective. All the political and social unrest coupled with a global pandemic had (ok, still has) me teetering on the brink of feeling like it’s literally the end of the world. I feel small and helpless and very afraid.

Watching Alice play and make comments about needing masks for her Barbie dolls and baby dolls makes me wonder if bringing children into this world was a good idea. The logical part of my brain says, “stop it. you had no way to know that this was going to happen.” But the very illogical (and loud, I might add) part of my brain constantly beats myself up for having children in a world with no future.

Recently, I watched a video about World War II and a Holocaust survivor mentioned feeling like it was the true end of the world. This was just days after the insurrection at the US capitol–the coverage of which I could not pull myself away from.

I have found that once or twice a day I have to sit quietly and remind myself what humanity has been through without the world ending. The waring and the disease and the famine and the floods. Events that both the survivors and the victims must have truly felt was the end of time.

Truth has been on my mind a lot lately as well. What is truth? Cortney and I watched The Social Dilema on Netflix last night, and while none of the information was that revelatory to me, it did make me see how someone’s social media timeline algorithms coupled with isolation in a pandemic would push them to come to believe certain things as fact and even to get emotionally invested as to leave their homes and act on these beliefs.

I’ve cut a lot out of my social media in the past few months. Some have accused me of creating an echo chamber of liberal views. And perhaps there is truth to that, but I don’t use social media solely for politics or debating issues. And social media is a terrible place to debate those things anyway. So I’ve made two types of cuts: people who post things that are blatantly false and refuse to admit to any fact checked corrections (because I don’t need that toxicity), and people who may not post much, but leave comments that promote misinformation.

I have also cut folks who refuse to see that there are injustices and inequities in all–ALL–systems and institutions in the United States. To be blind to the history and present-day struggle that is going on tells me that you will not be able to love my family (or me) if we are in a group of people who face oppression because you don’t believe that the oppression exists, which means you do not fully see us or value us and our lived truths not to mention those of everyone else in the world. And while I struggle mightily over my faith and what I believe, I know this: Jesus never preached hate or intolerance.

All of this rambling to say that my mental health has not been at it’s best since March 2020. I spend most of my time just trying to stay level. I haven’t felt “normal” or even “good” in months. I’ve felt like I’m either surviving, on the verge of going under, or drowning. The hardest thing for our family (and we are clearly privileged with this being the hardest thing, I know that) is the lack of in-person mental health care. Both Charlie and I struggle, but he needs to be able to sit in a room and be forced to face some things. He needs to be re-evaluated in person.

We have been doing what we can to get by, but just “getting by” wears on you after awhile.

Last week, I was able to bring a glimmer of hope that maybe there will be an end to the isolation, the lack of physical contact, and the uncertainty about when “going virtual” won’t always be looming. Last Wednesday I was given the first dose of the COVID19 vaccine.

As I waited in the line, my mind wondered if this was the beginning of the end of the pandemic, or if we were at the beginning of a long, changed reality that will always involve masks and vaccines and virtual meetings.

The logical part of my brain tells me to be postive.

The other, much LOUDER, anxiety-soaked part of my brain, struggles to stay in it’s place.

So I continue to be careful how much news I watch, who I allow in my social media, and how much quiet time I give my whole brain.

About Katie

Just a small town girl...wait no. That is a Journey song. Katie Sluiter is a small town girl, but she is far from living in a lonely world. She is a middle school English teacher, writer, mother, and wife. Life has thrown her a fair share of challenges, but her belief is that writing through them makes her stronger.

Comments

  1. <3 It's hard to pull out when you go down the rabbit hole. I agree wholeheartedly with cutting those people from your life. I give people three chances unless something they say is just so bad/hateful that there is no way I can justify or attempt to show them a different perspective. I have many family members that are far more conservative than me, that's never been a problem. The problem is believing stupid untruthful shit and being a stupid racist. There is no excuse for some things. Also, I can handle different perspectives. For petes sake, I grew up in Michigan as a huge Ohio State fan and I married a die hard Michigan fan. I can do differing opinions. I can do debate. I cannot do ignorance.