• Day 60

    How is your heart these days?What about your brain?  My heart holds massive compassion and hope. It’s new every day. And I’m grateful for that. It makes me feel as though there’s some part of my life this huge mess hasn’t touched. My brain is a different story. This is my brain, every day: “This is fine, it’s not so bad OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT okay it’s getting better, things will start to even out and then WE ARE ALL GOING TO FUCKING DIE, LONG, SLOW, PAINFUL, HIDEOUS DEATHS!!!!!!111!!!!11” It’s confusing in here. And crowded.  The cynics among us are simply disappointed romantics, as the…

  • Day 51

    I was going to write words.Then I changed my mind. Just me, or nah?

  • Day 29

    Conversations are taking strange and unexpected turns with such regularity that soon none of it will be strange, nor will it be unexpected. This morning, on a call with my boss, I ended a conversation thusly: “Well, uh, I’m going to stop holding up pieces of my brain to share now, and hang up.” Time may not be linear, but conversations in real time probably should. Just for the sake of our collective sanity. There are good days and bad. I worry about everything until I’m sick with it, and then I retreat into my head. We probably all need to upgrade our coping mechanisms, but is this really the…

  • Day 17

    This past week I had two separate virtual cocktail parties with some of my favorite people and the resulting joy was a little over the top, even for me. I’m hermit-y by nature; I work from home; I panic mildly and sweat profusely in the half-hour leading up to my leaving the house for a social event. But I love the people I love with a fierceness that feels like oxygen to me. The world seemed like a different place, or a more familiar place, after that first cocktail party, for a little while. On Saturday we had visitors. They stood on our front lawn and we stood at the…

  • Day 8

    Despair and deception / Love’s ugly little twins / Came a-knockin’ at my doorNick Cave, “I Let Love In” It was a rough week. For most of it I fluctuated between utter exhaustion and having to remind myself to breathe deeply every few minutes so as to stave off encroaching panic attacks. When life as we know it has been hijacked, it’s hard not to descend into that mini-hell inside your own head. It’s emotionally tiring, and eventually it runs to ground in the physical body. I’ve taken two-hour naps the past few days despite getting what would normally be an adequate amount of sleep. And look: compared to most,…