Thoughts on how the Presidential Election has (not) affected my writing life.
I have spent over a week…almost two…pouring every ounce of my energy into holding my shit together… I’ve written a few pieces that honestly would make a saint want to kill themselves…and I’ve got a total numbness to the election. Surprise?…yes..but in a definitely more understated “wow..that just happened” kind of way. I’ve retreated from friends and a couple of groups I was closely in contact with. I’m thankful to say, a few fellow writers,whom I’ve never met, jolted me out of my funk–just by simple blurbs asking about me…letting me know I did not fade into nothingness- reminding me I am still real, alive, and my journey is valid and must be shared. (they didn’t say all of that- they just asked me to check in…but I heard more because I needed to hear more… and I often make shit up in my head that suits my survivalist penchant for the agony of being seen rather than the safety of being invisible.) Yes, the election was a shocker…but as I sit back and watch our country go crazy hurting each other all because we followed the system that has been in place since this country was birthed, the system we like when it goes our way and despise when it doesn’t . Honestly, I processed the election like this… I thought…”So- Mr. Trump will be our president. Hmmmm, Never thought that would happen” (I should add that I never thought the past 8 years under Obama would happen either) Then I think, “I’ve survived way worse shit than that”. Then,I flip a switch in my head. I don’t give that drama another ounce of my energy. I change the channel, Sing a happy song, Write a poem. I do anything else that will move me forward in life. I do not go into a rage, paint a sign, plan a protest, beat up a dude in the middle of the street. Really people? I simply can’t afford to expend my energy that way. I am appalled that this is what our country has come to. People are starving, children are dying, no one is marching around screaming about that noise! So, I do what I do best…I roll up my artistic sleeves and get down to the business of dripping my soul onto the keys of my laptop. Weaving my words and my wounds together into a tell tale tapestry of triumph over tragedy, victory over viciousness, freedom over being frozen with fear.
Off my game? Not no, but hell no.
Much to the contrary.