Turning Off the TV

Some days, it’s okay to just turn off the TV.

It’s okay to put yourself in a little bubble. Skip dinner. Bake chocolate chip cookies. Eat the cookies for dinner.

I pulled up the news last night on my phone and instantly exited the page. I texted my husband something like, “I’m not looking, don’t tell me anything”.

I swiftly deleted all social media off my phone. I called my closest friend and cried. Cried in the shower. Cried about something happening to my child. I realized that she was sound asleep in her crib on the other side of the wall.

The disconnect between the way that I feel and my reality feels vast on days like yesterday. There’s so much terror. Such an ugly word. A word reserved for such extreme moments. Like yesterday.

I read something a long time ago that went along the lines of “our brains weren’t meant to process suffering on such a large scale”. I don’t know the quote. If you know the quote, let me know.

Basically, our brains aren’t designed for this. I wasn’t designed for this.

I used to think that being in on all the news meant that you were intelligent and informed and compassionate, and that’s probably true.

I used to feel like I knew everything about everything. I checked the news compulsively and I didn’t check my own suffering while ogling others’. Ladies and gentlemen, I am bowing out.

I don’t know any details. I don’t want to know. It’s not a hurricane warning – there’s nothing I need to know that’s going to change anything.

I have hope for a different future. Every generation has it’s stuff. I use statistics to quiet my anxiety and I hug my baby girl a little bit tighter, like every other mother in America.

I hope you do a gut check, and know that sometimes it’s okay to turn off the TV and put down your phone and take care of yourself during times like these.

There’s so much good in the world, still.

You find what you look for.

O.