AMID the death, economic destruction and utter chaos swirling across the nation at this time, we have a ‘president’ who is actually extolling the wonderful job he has done – even as thousands continue to suffer and die, frequently as a direct result of the utter ineptitude and lack of preparedness demonstrated by this administration, STILL, more than five months after the first warnings were being voiced by scientists and researchers.
He arbitrarily fired another IG, illegally, in retaliation for whistleblowing; the fourth in a short while, continuing his gutting of the government ‘Deep State’ that in fact, is the underpinning career bureaucracy which facilitates the continuity of our government and policies across administrations and generations.
Since his inauguration, Trump has been gutting agencies, demurring from formally appointing directorships, instead appointing ‘acting’ directors – which require no Congressional approval – or oversight. Even now, under the pretense of assertively moving to reopen the economy (however prematurely, it could be argued), he just signed an executive order [ https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/trump-signs-order-directing-agencies-to-cut-federal-regulations/ar-BB14jUK5?li=BBnb7Kz ] directing agencies to cut federal regulations – many of which, if not the vast majority – are intended to protect the public, the environment, and workers from harm, directly or indirectly.
He continues, daily, demonizing the mainstream press, reporters and media as ‘fake news,’ or ‘enemy of the people,’ and spouting virtuously continual lies, obfuscations nd deflections, worthy of ‘Big Brother’ in George Orwells’ ‘1984,’ in which ‘war’ was ‘peace’ and black was white ….
…and… QUARANTINE
I’ve been self-isolating for more than two months now. Living alone with my darling indoor cat, Giselle. I’ve missed three usually regularly scheduled massage visits, and find myself going ‘Quietly Mad’ [https://youtu.be/KwzbGHwzPy8]. I had a totally realistic and emotionally unsettling dream last night about my ex-wife, whom I loved very much. In the dream, we were really talking – in a way in which people don’t know how to do in their twenties and early thirties. I awoke, almost believing that she would be there, wanting her to be there…. What a way to get set up for another day in Dystopia.
…inevitably, with Trump blustering and bloviating, threatening states to reopen, and threatening churches, with his pet toad, William Barr waiting in the wings to absolve him of pretty much anything. So, what if? What IF Trump loses the 2020 election (PLEEEEZE, let it be so) – then claims Fraud, Fake News, … and refuses to abdicate gracefully? Would his pet toad, Barr, and Moscow Mitch along with minions Devon Nunes and Lindsey Graham back his play? Now, for certain, I need a martini… a double.
…not that the martini actually solved anything… but it DID make me feel a bit better!!! In line with my idle musings, above, I have to say, I’ve seen numerous articles in various sources, recently, echoing my worst fears….
Memorial Day, 2020… a gray, desultory day, or perhaps it is my own lethargy and lack of motivation echoing back on itself, feeling utterly disempowered, even disenfranchised from life with so many activities currently beyond reach, or at least beyond my feeling of safety….
I only have three ‘closest’ friends – Bill and Jeri, in Olympia, John and Lee here in Portland, and Cheryl, in Renton – and I don’t dare call, fearing to wear out my welcome; I’d be on the telephone every night.
The timing of the pandemic was disaster – I was just on the cusp of forging new friendships through volunteer activities with RideConnection, Meals on Wheels and Multnomah Library – only to be nicely advised to ‘take a break’ because of my fragile age. As a result, as with so many of us, I’m marooned at home with my solitude, my echo chamber, and dear cat of twelve years, Giselle, whom I rescued in 2009 after repeatedly finding her sleeping under a bush on my property, while walking my dog, Tasmania, who died, later that same year, just prior to my life spinning down the rabbit hole when I got caught up in industry layoffs due to legislative law changes. Giselle took up residence with Harlequin (then 14ish) and Lacesus (then 2 or 3), rescued in 2004ish.
Now, Juneteenth, tomorrow, with everyone in the media in a frenzy about it… somehow, I’ve heard virtually nothing about it – until this year, coincidental with the mass protests – worldwide – against continued murders of unarmed black men by whites, which seems to have become far too ubiquitous. It is soul numbing.
The social distancing and isolation, I can feel, are taking a dreadful toll on my state of mind. I’m not sleeping well, nor consistently, am experiencing almost constant anxiety and somatization, imagining symptoms and being certain that I’ve been infected, … even with no temperature, no loss of smell, no coughing, no congestion – just an instance of awakening Tuesday morning with a plugged left ear, which seems to be … not resolving, though, not increasing in severity, either. Just… unsettling, and food for my bored brain, and ready substance for exaggeration and panic.
It is almost precisely six months, since my sister died, suddenly – driven to her demise by an aggressive Stage IV Lung Cancer; given ‘3-4 months,’ she eked out two… My Fridays are achingly empty, with no sister to call….
June 23rd, 2020: Shopping, early, at 7:00 AM, as they advise us ‘frail’ seniors to do, in and out within 25 minutes, forgetting nothing. Everybody is conscientious of distancing and face masks, so I can feel ‘relatively’ safe from contagion – being certain to use copious amounts of sanitizer while shopping, and immediately following, once I am cloistered within my car and isolated, window open a crack and air conditioner going.
Scary times.
THIS … screed, blog, meandering trail of doggerel is NOT turning out as I wanted or intended… but, then, neither is my life as I hibernate, waiting until it is safe enough to start another chapter of living – which, this, is not.
June 24th, 2020: Realizations: The tension and anxiety I used to feel when approaching sex was ‘remembered’ anxiety and tension from the surgical interventions when younger – I always tried to ‘understand’ the reasons for the tension and anxiety. Clue – it was nothing more than early, deep, internal association; no ‘reason.’
My *current* tension and anxiety is specifically related to my fear of perceived loss of function – even as the previous tension and anxiety are still present – so, it’s a double whammy. **It **feels** as if my body is arguing over whether it even **wants** to get an erection or reach orgasm…so… is this a physiological, physical, or mental/emotional issue????
Happy Hour, Martini Friday, June 26, 2020:
Six months. Six months without my sister. Over three months of relative isolation (really not that unusual, for me, but the *context* is totally, starkly, different, and, to me, starkly threatening. My vision has been utterly wonky and chaotic, the past couple of days, and I am desperately hoping that it recovers…
Now Sunday afternoon… while vision has continued to be wonky… it at least seems to be restablizing at something approaching what has become the ‘new normal…’ Chaotic. I am, again, reminded of how difficult it is, as a single, solo person to shop for groceries and not end up wasting vegetables – inevitably, something ends up going bad, because it doesn’t get used soon enouhgh…maybe it is just me – I do not exacty plot out specific meals in advance, and perhaps that is what I need to learn to do…. **sigh**
Musings on the latter years of passage... 