What It Feels Like In Here…In My Head

The anxiety. Again. Why do I feel like this? Oh, right.

Breathe. Breathe. You aren't breathing again. You have to breathe. 

I can't breathe in here. All those babies…all those mommas…all those families…

STOP. You have to stop. It didn't happen to us.

No, it didn't happen to us, per se. But out of such a senseless act comes fear and anxiety and grief. Grief for those children, grief for those families, grief for that place. And although it didn't happen here, it will change things here. It will change things everywhere.

But for today, I am going to try to remember to breathe. I will not read accounts of those children's final moments or debate gun control laws via social media or try to understand what makes one person changes so many lives in such a horrible way. I will unplug from all of it, eternally grateful that I can. That for today, within these four walls, I can keep things the same and keep the world out. 

In the coming days and months, I hope there will be opportunities to help and enact change. But for today, while things are still so new and so scary, I'm going to shut it all out. I implore you, if you can, to do the same. We are infinitely lucky, those of us who have a choice.