I Am Tired

And now is not the time to work harder but to pause and lament.

It’s not that I didn’t think Trump could win. I knew that was a distinct possibility.

It’s why I haven’t been home for more than three days at a stretch for the last three months. It’s why I’ve been writing here on my Substack at a furious pace. It’s why I’ve been constantly telling people about why we need the spirit of justice.

I knew he could win, but I could not bear the weight of actually pondering it.

Last night on my evening walk, I tried to game out the scenario in case of a Trump victory.

Before any thoughts entered my head, I felt a cold hollowness spread in my core.

Then a flood of memories came rushing to my consciousness:

Major policy decisions made with a social media post.

Massive national news breaking on a Friday night as the week winds down.

The barrage of bigotry spewing from his lips and those of his supporters every single day.

The brazen rollbacks of basic civil rights.

The most vile and inhumane words, ideas, and actions done in the name of Christ.

In that moment, my mind put up a wall against that flood of thoughts. My survival system reflexively cut off the deluge of painful recollections.

This morning, I woke to the news that my direst predictions for this nation came true.

He won.

And I am tired.

Phot Credit: Joice Kelly

I had allowed a glimmer of hope up through the day of the election, only for that hope to shatter against the rock solid wall of MAGA immovability.

Today, of all days, I do not need the message that we need to keep fighting.

We’ve been fighting. So many of us have given all we had to preserve democracy and move toward a “more perfect union.” We exerted every effort and then dug deep to find even more energy for action.

I am tired.

In the midst of the exhaustion, the message is not “work harder.” The message for today is: Rest. Grieve. Lament.

As wrote on Threads:

Let’s not move immediately on to the next fight and resist phase. Let’s feel first. The exhaustion. The grief. The worry. The anger. Even the despair. These feelings need not last forever, but neither should they be suppressed or ignored. Take the time you need to process.

Here’s my plan for this day, and the next day, and the next.

• Do my best to sleep (though the restlessness is nearly unrelenting)

• Exercise and go for walks.

• Eat foods that are good for my body.

• Journal.

• Pray.

• Text and call friends rather than retreating into isolation.

• Avoid using overeating or drinking to excess to dodge my feelings.

• Do my best to stick to a routine. Lean on habits and systems rather than throwing my life into even more chaos.

• Not say “yes” to anything I don’t have to this week. Be “selfish.”

• Make sure my family knows I love them and am present for them.

• Write to process my grief and help others put words to their feelings.

This moment sucks. It feels like we’re entering into a new nightmare, and I want to take every “we will resist” and “we’ll get through this” and hurl it against a wall.

I.Am.Tired.

And that’s okay. It’s the sign of energy spent pursuing a worthy cause.

We will regroup. We will reorganize. This moment will pass.

But not today.

Today is for feeling. Today is for frustration. Today is for being frail and unapologetically human.

You have space here to spend all your emotions. None of them are wrong. They just are. What are you feeling right now?

I had hoped the message of this book would not be so relevant, but we need the spirit of justice now in an acute way. Maybe today is also for reading and learning from those who have felt grief like this moment brings.

---

A whole new wear of work and struggle has just entered our lives. I’ll need your support more than ever to keep writing and keep resisting. Will you become a paid subscriber today?