Sweet Dreams are Made of This

I need a little break. I think 2020 has finally caught up with me. I spent so much of the overly abundant free time covid had given me scrolling on the internet, trying to make sense of it all…and the truth is, I can’t. Who could?

2020 is going to be the answer in future history tests for sure: a global pandemic, racism, conspiracy theories, toilet paper shortages, compulsory home school, record unemployment, Tiger King….

The year when teachers became heroes for working from home and then villains when faced with a return to work with even higher cases. The year when nurses demonstrated their bravery and essentialness only to be told they were not eligible for a pay rise-clapping was apparently a sufficient reward. The year the rights of statues were held in higher esteem than the rights of actual people. The year masks became a political statement. The year when having an opinion on any of these arguments immediately put you at odds with “friends” and often family.

It kind of feels like I was a spectator to the year: I was lucky. My job was safe. I was able to stay home with my kiddos and living in the burbs meant I was able to isolate with relative ease. Plentiful internet access allowed me to stay in touch with my loved ones despite the heartache of not being able to visit them this year. I was able to spend time discovering what my soul needed to fill the void created by social isolation. I was able to re-assess my white privilege and discuss theirs with my boys then have a go at yoga to quell my unease (which kind of, unintentionally, epitomizes my white privilege don’t ya think?!)

As 2020 unleashed each wave of new anxiety inducing topics destined for the history books, I was able to watch it all in the safety and comfort of my living room.

I count my blessings that I have been able to empathize these fears rather than experience them as so many have this year. My family have remained safe. Even now, it feels a tad indulgent and insensitive to be writing this as an outlet for my anxiety. I definitely feel guilty for feeling anxious. I see the kids who’ve returned to school all masked up, using hand sanitizer and socially distancing and worry about my boys who will be joining them in a couple of weeks. I know the numbers have gone down. Did we do the right thing keeping them home or was this all an exaggeration designed to win or lose an election after all? Am I the idiot for not believing the conspiracy theories? I snope all the time these days as I distrust the media. Should I even trust Snopes for chrissakes?

It seems I’ve fallen into a chasm of fear at the minute.

Facebook and Twitter are no longer the chosen way to decompress and enjoy an idle few minutes catching up with what my friends have been upto. For every funny post I see about cats, I see three more discussing the current events from different perspectives. I have always prided myself on researching a sensational story but I’m out of spoons. I am taking the easy way out. I remember my gran telling me before she died, she didn’t want to know the truth. She wanted to be an ostrich and bury her head in the sand. I understand that now more than ever.

So here I am. An atheist reciting the Serenity Prayer. Deactivating Facebook like that’s going to make a difference to how 2o20 plays out. I don’t know how long this will last. I miss all your stories of family life and mishaps. Your misspelled late night drunk ramblings and pictures of delicious dinners or soon to be consumed pints of beer. Your long awaited friend and family reunions or holidays and even the rants about that stupid woman in Asda.

I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to resist the pull of knowing these little “what’s on your mind…” moments. How I’ll miss my “on this day” morning coffee ritual I look forward to each day or even telling you guys I literally tripped over a shadow yesterday…how can you survive without knowing that!

I got a little drunk last night and nearly popped back on but I resisted…more due to drunken fat finger coordination issues tho. I’ll miss your stories. I love seeing them. I think that’s why I’ve enjoyed blogging so much as it’s introduced me to others’ stories. Funny though, everyone seems to read my blog thru Facebook so if I cut it off…am I just writing this to myself?!

But with all the events and uncertainty of recent times, I’m a little overwhelmed and have decided to “ostrichcize” myself until I have more spoons. So I’m going to maintain my self imposed exile a while longer because I do feel more at peace in my ignorance.

My Gran was called Annie and another Annie says that sweet dreams are made of this. I’m not sure she was referring to “this” as a social media flounce but hey ho, it seems to fit!!

But I will truly miss you and hope you’re OK. I will be back at some point hopefully, more confident in how things are going. I’ve managed a week thus far…wonder how long this inherently nosey person will go.

Photo by Arie van Ravenswaay on Pexels.com