OK. I’m not going to pull any punches here. Sometimes, shit happens. Shit you can’t control. We know that, right? We’re living a nightmare pandemic. Talk about out of control! And then there is the seemingly small stuff of everyday life that we can’t control…
These past several days, I’ve been living my version of that so-called small-scale personal powerlessness, here, behind the scenes, on Daily Plate of Crazy.
I ran into a brick wall of some technical snafu that I had no ability to address. Even now, I don’t know or understand the cause and have benefitted from little information by which I could prevent it from happening again.
So, first of all, let me say that if this occurs again — the apparent absence of access (that 403 error) — I will do what I can to resolve the situation, but I am no longer in a position to fork over money to techie gurus to address issues that are beyond my skill level.
Chalk that up to the pandemic loss of income.
Second, sitting here in my little apartment, should this occur again, I will try not to lose my shit, which is what has happened over these past several days.
That powerlessness I just mentioned?
I’ve been frustrated, bleary-eyed, and angry. I’ve felt gut-punched, disconsolate, unmoored. As if this isolation — now 11 months — hasn’t already shredded so much of my “recognizable” existence, what appeared like it might be a permanent loss — this place — took on enormous emotional momentum.
Daily Plate of Crazy has been my oasis, my salve, my attempt to do something decent and helpful beyond my own preoccupations. Having those dozen years just “disappear” has felt like a nail on the coffin of who I am, my ability to channel my thoughts, to connect in some way with others, to feel less crazy during a period of time when so many of us feel crazy. Or more precisely, adrift.
I’m missing my kids, terribly. I’m worried about one friend in particular. And I have been grieving. Weirdly. I’ve had a 12-year relationship with Daily Plate of Crazy. Twelve years of sweat equity (and money), and pouring my heart into the writing here and perhaps more so, the conversations in comment sections. And that means a 12-year relationship with some of you even if I never lay my eyes on you.
This place is one of the few remaining sources of relationship in my life at the moment. (That’s a little sad to say, I know, but I told you — not pulling any punches.)
In writing, and in the engagement that follows, I find hope. I recognize that I may still serve some purpose. I find bits of myself that are otherwise too easily lost. And as the months of isolation inch along, finding anything recognizable in myself is becoming increasingly difficult. And I can’t help but wonder how many other people are experiencing a noticeable erosion of their sense of who they are as a matter of losing people they love, losing their work, losing their homes, losing the ability to get out — or rather, to get out safely.
Listen, sometimes shit happens. The everyday shit that we all go through. It’s no big deal. Irritating, yes. Maddening at times, yes. But we weather it. We tell ourselves these are inconveniences. And why sweat the small stuff, right? But these days, each loss seems to compound and grow heavier and less digestible. Even the so-called small losses. And we break more easily as things break around us. Especially without the bucks to replace or repair them.
And of course, people are irreplaceable.
So. Lately, I feel like I’m going a little crazy. It’s the isolation, I know that, but not only the isolation. It’s the powerlessness that comes with a string of losses — financial, professional, personal. It’s the disorientation that occurs as we age, as we are forced to accept certain limitations and changes — things we’re not supposed to talk about — try as we might to fight them.
This may not be true for everyone, I realize.
I also realize that I can “work through” some of that craziness, that stress, that emptiness here. When I pick a subject and offer up my take. Or when I try out a writing exercise. Or when I allow the morning’s first thoughts upon waking to wander their way onto the virtual page.
What I’ve discovered in the past few days — I don’t want to be without this venue even if it isn’t what it once was. Hell, I’m not what I once was either.
I’m older. I’m more tired. I’m more breakable.
I’m certain I’m in excellent company in this regard.
As I said, I wonder how many others are feeling like so much of their lives is now unrecognizable that they are crumbling a bit each day. I wonder how many others find that their emotional bandwidth to manage once minor challenges is now severely compromised. And I won’t even bring up the more “serious” challenges.
Enough said. And my apologies for any inconvenience or concern over these past few days.
On another note — Who’s up for Impeachment Part Deux? Honestly, I’m so emotionally weary of everything these days, part of me wishes it would all go away. Each day is such a struggle as it is. On the other hand, the deadly insurrection on January 6, 2021, was a staggering and shocking event. We have eyes and ears, and those eyes and ears plainly point to the former president and cohorts as the instigators. To do nothing, in my opinion, would be a travesty.
As always, I welcome your thoughts.
You May Also Enjoy
What happened, DA? Is it something that maybe fellow bloggers can help with? Sounds like your blog just disappeared for a time? Achhh. That would be wounding to me too. Especially now!
It had to do – I think – with updates to WordPress and mostly, backend server issues, which I don’t control. Those are platform issues. Nonetheless, a WordPress guru might be able to make some suggestions. Frustrating. But thank you for your comment, Sue. Perhaps there is someone who could help.
I’m glad to see you are back! So many things feel out of control that I never know when I might get totally derailed one day. It’s so frustrating.
Good on you for being committed to writing – I find motivation in short supply.
Indeed, Missy. Motivation is in short supply for many of us I suspect. And you can tell that my commitment to writing is less “enthusiastic” than it used to be. Nonetheless, I tend to work on drafts over the course of many days, behind the scenes, which was a capability I no longer had during those days when things were down. I didn’t realize how much that would impact me.
Losses accumulate. And I know there is a psychological phenomenon when many losses have occurred in a stream of disorienting losses. A subsequent loss, even one that may not seem very big to others, seems to chain itself to the ones that come before. And the reaction becomes extreme because the previous losses are all triggered as well.
I can relate very well with much of what you have written. I am grieving the before life that was. Too many emotional comforts have gone and the light is not shining at the end of this nightmare tunnel. I know I am blessed to have a husband, daughter, son-in-law and grandson near. The hard part is waiting for all of this to go away. I don’t think it will anytime soon. Thank goodness my therapist is doing Telehealth. We commiserate over the many problems surrounding this pandemic. Slowly the vaccine is making it’s way around and my husband and I have had the first dose. On the other hand I don’t want to be part of a class action suit when they figure out these vaccines didn’t have all the bugs worked out. I could go on and on about the emotional toll this is taking on everyone. Please know one of your caring readers is out here sending you prayers, good wishes, and good vibes to persevere.
I hear you! It does seem insurmountable at times. I also agree that to do nothing regarding the insurrection and its perpetuators would not only be wrong but dangerous!
Loss of identity, loss of relationships, grieving. That pretty well describes where I am as well.
I’m finding it hard to relate to the world “out there” anymore. I don’t know if it is solely due to a normal “aging away” from mainstream life, or my individual life situation, or some combination. For one reason or another I feel cut off from outside, and don’t know how to relate anymore, or if I should even try. And maybe it isn’t so much that I’m cut off, but that I’m connected more than I wish. Hard to say.
I’m seeing places and people which have always been hallmarks of my existence disappear, and realize this will increase. As you say, one of those people is the person I used to be. I’ve not had the introspective, philosophical types of friends who would discuss such stages of life. Perhaps they think about these things but for one reason or another don’t wish to discuss them. If so, I understand – it is a vulnerable place to go. Perhaps they have other friends, as I do, who make you wish you’d never gone there. I find myself being more tentative and circumspect, wondering if I overshare. But if I can’t talk about the things I find important, I’m finding I no longer want to go through the motions to connect to those who can’t relate.
There is nothing worse than tech problems. I’d rather be sick. I hope WordPress fixes the stuff that’s out of your control.
The U.S. is making amazing progress on the pandemic. Cases are falling fast, people getting vaccinated. And in a few more months it will be warm and we can see each other outside. I had a nice long walk (masked) over the weekend with a friend. It did us both good–the talk, the exercise, the sunshine, the fresh air. But above all, the talk, in person rather than by phone.
Wishing you smooth sailing!
I HATE COMPUTER SNAFU’s! But this is a LIFELINE FOR YOU AND YOU NEED IT!
I have NO MORE ENERGY FOR THAT HORRIBLE MAN……… leave him on his GOLF COURSE!
When I first saw this there were family members and friends with some serious non Covid health issues. It seemed like everyone was falling apart or dying. I did not know what to say. I’m sorry for that.
While it is both trite and “kitschy” I have continued to follow the “get busy living or get busy dying” philosophy. Yes I know that sounds easy, like a sign you would buy at Williams Sonoma, and ignores the fact that this is quite difficult if not impossible for many. That said I try to show up, do my best and roll the dice. What else can we do as humans?
I empathize with what you have described. The world is cruel and unkind at times. It seems to be trending this way also; or perhaps I am becoming a bit jaded or a curmudgeon.
Instead of rambling further, all I can say is that I am sorry you are going through this. All we can do is our best and to try. Further your writings have helped me tremendously at a time I was so distressed, I could have never imagined being in such a state.
Take care, my friend.