And so it goes and so it went and although I am vastly aware that strides were made yesterday and am most grateful for Democrats taking control of the House, it is still quite a blow to see my state fall once again to a Republican who has no one's interests at heart unless they are wealthy and white and have connections to other powerful Republicans. Who is in the pocket of god-knows-who and who is, as Gillum said, a man whom even racists call a racist.
Last night I was texting with a friend and I told her that I was so tired. So, so tired.
And I am.
And what is there to do with these feelings of such disappointment and frustration and anger and bewilderment?
I guess that all I can do is to continue to live my life in the best way I can. With love and with kindness, with awareness and with the aim to address whatever is in front of me in the most caring way possible.
I am not a demonstrator or a marcher. I simply am not. I never have been. I would no more run for an office than I would run a marathon. Given the choice between those two, I would start training for the marathon.
But I am so grateful for those whose hearts are in the right place who do run for office and this election has proven, if nothing else, that women can win elections, that out gay people can win elections, that people of color can win elections, that people who look different, sound different, dress differently can win elections.
I said last night that my hope was crammed deep in my pocket. I said a few days ago that if Gillum lost, I would lose all hope.
And last night I felt as if I had.
Today I am fighting that feeling because that's no way to live. It is the bedrock and hallmark of depression and although I do very much feel as if I am experiencing some sort of PTSD from 2016, I am going to try not to let myself fall into that deep and rocky and hard abyss again because goddammit! No one has the right to steal the joy I have in the love of my family, in the life that I am so fortunate to have.
So today I'm crying. I am. And that's okay. That's appropriate.
But I'm going to try and find that small nugget of hope I hid and unwrap it from its tiny tinfoil hat where I placed it for protection and I am going to wear it next to my heart.
I'm going to try.
You too? Okay?
Let's keep loving at the very least and keeping hope as best we can.
Here's to another day.