Maybe I'm Not Okay Today

I cried the other night during an episode of Schitt’s Creek. If you’ve never seen the show, just know it’s objectively unsad. Subjectively hilarious. A show we—my husband and I—specifically selected to start watching because it’s funny and light and distracting and basically perfect for a time such as this. Yet there I sat, in bed at 10:30 on a Thursday night with tears rolling down my cheeks and a lump in my throat because David was awkwardly sweet and kind to his boss’ stepdaughter.

That’s when I realized, huh, maybe I’m not okay today.

For 3/4ths of you, this probably seems baffling—that a person could literally have tears rolling down her cheeks as the first sign that something is amiss in the emotions department. But some of you know exactly what I mean. You know what it is to stuff down, to pivot, to give a wide berth to your feelings because we have things to do today and crying isn’t one of them. The yawn of the emotional abyss is too threatening—feeling anything seems like a gateway to feeling everything, so we’ll feel nothing, please and thank you.

One question though: How’s that working for you in 2020? 

I’ll answer for myself and say not great. Oh, don’t get me wrong—I’m still pretty good at sidestepping my emotions. That’s what 37 years of practice will do for a girl. But things are … amiss. Like the fact that I’m not sleeping. I have trouble falling asleep and staying asleep and basically the whole sleep situation is not really a thing right now. I’m exercising and vitamining and drinking a little more water with no increase in REM hours, so I’m beginning to suspect The Feelings are to blame. 

As we’ve already discussed, I’m prone to inexplicable crying mid sitcom. I’m also snapping at my family when they don’t like the dinner I serve them, my weekly cocktail is now more like daily-ish, and sometimes I leave the house as soon as my husband gets home from work, drive my car to an empty parking lot, and just sit there, in the quiet, until I get a text letting me know the kids are in bed and the coast is clear.

I’m not an expert in human behavior, but I think maybe these things mean that I’m not entirely okay. And if I’m not okay, and we’re all living different versions of the same hellish year, then it seems like there’s a chance you’re not okay either?

We don’t have to talk about it, of course. If there’s one thing I’m sick to death of in 2020 it’s effing talking about it. We could never ever talk about it again, and that would be too soon. So just, I don’t know, blink twice or something if you’re not okay either.

Assuming you’ve blinked, we could sit shoulder to metaphorical shoulder. We could turn on a better crying conduit than Schitt’s Creek (I like Queer Eye or Steel Magnolias or Little Women, personally, but I’m open to suggestions). And—here’s where I get a little crazy—we could feel something. 

Not the whole of it, of course—God, could anyone handle the whole of it right now? But for the space of a makeover or the minutes in the graveyard with M’Lynn and Ouiser or the moment when Jo wonders if she made a horrible mistake by saying no to Laurie and now she’s going to be alone forever … we feel it, just a little. We let a few tears roll down our cheeks, and we don’t swallow the sob right away. It’s too much, too dangerous, too open-ended to be sad for us but to be sad for them? We can be a little sad for them. 

So we sit, you and I. And I know you’re crying and you know I’m crying, but we don’t have to talk about it. The knowing is enough. 

Because maybe I’m not okay today, and maybe you aren’t either. But I see you. And you see me. For all that I feel that I can’t name or know, there’s one emotion I note by its absence.

I don’t feel lonely. And that’s because I have you.

The Day Jon Lost His Job

On Wednesday morning, Jon was laid off from his job. He worked for a design firm whose biggest clients are collegiate and professional athletics, and the pandemic has radically altered the industry in two short weeks. We had talked a few days ago about preparing for this possibility down the road, but neither of us expected it to come so quickly or harshly.

He was offered no severance. Our health insurance ends in five days. My freelance income has dried up to a trickle. Suddenly our savings, which seemed so robust last month, felt like so little.

It began as a very dark day.

But.

Our family and friends have been so generous with their love and support. It’s such a lonely time right now, being physically distanced from everyone except the people who live within our four walls. But we did not feel alone on Wednesday. All day long, emails and texts and phone calls flowed into our home.

And that was the first good thing.

Then, that afternoon the sun came out. And not just a peek or two through the clouds; true, blue sky sunniness. Jon had spent all day on the computer and phone, reaching out to every contact he could think of and lining up every possible lead. But the four of us headed outside and went for a ride on scooters and bikes, and Ellie made “flower soup” in a puddle in the driveway, and the warmth and brightness seemed to tangibly lift some of the weight from our shoulders.

And that was the second good thing.

But the best came last. Nathan usually uses our shower at night. There’s a waterproof notepad on the wall that Jon got me one Christmas after I complained about losing all my good ideas in the shower. Nathan uses it to write notes to us from time to time, and as I was putting him in bed last night, he let me know there was a new note for us.

And that was the third good thing.

It’s a tough time. But it’s not without goodness and hope.

Keep spreading kindness and light.

Three Good Things, Part Two

1. Today was our first day attempting any sort of homeschool situation. I know the expectations are across the board depending on your school district; ours is pretty low-key. Nathan’s teacher sent a few links to some online learning options and we were encouraged to just spend a little time each day doing something academic. We spent 30 minutes this morning doing ELA activities and 30 more minutes this afternoon doing math, and everyone was happy and agreeable and might’ve even learned something? Marking that in the W column.
   

2. My co-host on The Medium Talk Podcast, Colleen, informed me that all past episodes of Full House are available for streaming on Hulu, so we fired up the pilot episode tonight and introduced the kids to the Tanner clan. Jon and I were talking about the complete dearth of “family viewing” options on TV these days, but this throwback fits the bill perfectly. The kids cackled through the whole episode, and the nostalgia factor is solid. We happened to noticed that Family Matters, Step by Step, and Perfect Strangers are also on Hulu, so we might just have to resurrect the whole TGIF lineup.
   

3. Once the kids were in bed, Jon and I caught Garth Brooks’ and Trisha Yearwood’s performance on Facebook Live and it was A WORD. I cried like a baby through the whole back half of the show, and it was very cathartic to finally let go of all the emotions I’ve been holding onto and stuffing down for the past couple of weeks. I’ve been reluctant to really let myself “go there” because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to resurface, but then Garth started crying while Trisha sang an a cappella version of Amazing Grace … and I figured if he could cry, I could, too. So I did, and now I feel better. Can we make this a weekly thing?

Not everything about this day was good. But it was a good day.

Three Good Things Today

I don’t have words yet for everything that’s going on right now, and I don’t know when I will; this is not a blog post of profound wisdom or insight. We are muddling through, the same as everyone else.

I’m tempted to say there are good days and bad days, but the truth is that the days are so long they each contain a dozen switchbacks from good to bad and back again. The underlying tenor of the days is one of anxiety and unsettledness though, and I’m worried that—God willing, someday soon—when this is all a distant memory, the tenor is all I’ll remember.

So starting now, I’m writing down three good things that happen every day. At first I just texted them to a couple of friends, but then I thought maybe I’d like to put them here, too. Not just for the someday version of me, but for tomorrow’s, too.

1. While we were eating lunch, some friends stopped by unexpectedly. They parked at the end of our driveway and their 10-year-old held a boombox over his head while we laughed and called greetings to each other over the music. Then we stood and visited for a bit from a government-mandated safe distance. Coincidentally (or not), it was the warmest I felt all day.

2. It took three stores and almost $200, but I managed to find every single item on my grocery list today, down to the very last loaf of the “right” kind of bread and the spinach tortillas Nathan requested.

3. While on the way home from store No. 3, I was behind a car with a dog hanging its head out the window. We were sitting at a red light when the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in … days? a week? And I swear that dog tilted his head up, closed his eyes, and sighed with pleasure.
   
   Me too, buddy. Me. Too.