Blogging, Life, Magpie Writes

The One Where Magpie Is Angry

emailing your professors 1

So January and Feburary haven’t quite gone as planned.

You can probably figure that out based on the quietness here.

Nothing about the last two months has been the way I expected.

January this year was… weird. I generally spend a good deal of the month working from home. Because of that, January is usually one of my most productive months of the year in terms of blogging and prep work thanks to the lack of crazy commutes to eight different places.

It’s always easier to get stuff done when you’re not spending half of your day living out of your car, after all.

But this year I just really COULD NOT get myself into the groove. Part of it had to do with both Jim and I seeming to trade being sick all month. When one of us would start to feel better, the other would come down with something else. So there was a lot of couch sitting and soup making and video game playing this month. And while I admit that beyond the whole “being sick” part, it made for a really nice and cozy month – that kind of stuff in large amounts also tends to do a number on my anxiety and productiveness.

So January was weird. Not awful, not terrible, but weird.

And then February?

February has been angry.

It started off as little stupid petty anger. Annoyance, really. Over stupid shit. Annoyance that I had to choose between the two teams I hate most in the NFL for the Superbowl. Annoyance with the instagram algorithm for sucking. Annoyance that a free seminar I signed up for turned out to be nothing more than a sales pitch for a program I very much wish I could participate in, but will never in my wildest dreams be able to afford. Little, stupid, minor, meaningless irritants which I would gladly take back if those are to be my biggest problems.

But then the anger intensified. It became anger over more substantial things. Anger over the way certain, bigoted segments of our community kept representing our area on online articles about our local olympian Adam Rippon. The way they insulted him for simply being him – condemning and dehumanizing him just because he’s gay and dares to be his authentic self. Someone who is out there representing the best of us by bringing to the table 28 years of hard work and achievement, someone who our whole community should be proud of and be rallying around. The community I know and love is apparently far less tolerant and compassionate than I thought it had evolved to be, and that only compounded the anger. It was anger for me, for our community’s reputation, for a figure skater I’ve never met but happen to share a hometown with.

It was also anger over other things in the coverage and reaction to the Olympics like ethnocentrism and a lack of understanding of history and culture. It was anger at the constant onslaught of dumbf**kery coming out of Washington. It was anger at the horribleness of the internet, anger at the lack of empathy of our officials, anger at everything in my Twitter moments tab.

It felt overwhelming. It felt inescapable.

But then, Parkland.

And I thought I was angry before? I thought the anger was sapping my creativity then? Now I am enraged.

I am enraged and because of that I am unsure how to proceed here.

Because I don’t feel ready to get back to talking about knitting and reading and make up and personal goals. I am struggling to put fingers to keyboard and create anything for posting because I am consumed with anger and opinions that don’t fit here – partly because of what I’ve established this blog to be, but also partly because of what I do for a living. Because of the lines in the sand that I’ve drawn for myself about exactly how open is appropriate on a public forum like this for someone in my position.

Because I’ve spent the last week pouring my thoughts and feelings and opinions into a blog post about guns and education that I will probably never have the guts to post – and because I hate myself for not being strong enough to just hit “publish.” For not being vocal enough, for not having the fortitude to open myself up like that, open this blog up like that. For not being strong enough to speak my truth for fear of attracting trolls, for fear of attracting unwanted attention.

I am enraged, and it will be a good long while until I can work out what to do with it.

So you’ll have to forgive me for being more absent than usual here, and more absent on Instagram. And you’ll have to forgive me for being a little more negative, a little more outraged, a little more political over on Twitter. I need to sort through this new anger, and relearn how to see the beauty in the small things through it all.

And that may take me some time.

So for now, how have you been? Are you doing okay? Do you need a hug?

I’m pretty sure I do.


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