So, How Are You Doing?

A list of my feelings, there's quite a few.

I’m exhausted. 
Nightly alerts and sirens for almost a week now.
Constant wondering when the next siren will be. 
Once there’s an alert, there’s the anticipation of the siren itself.

I’m claustrophobic. 
I am not someone who loves being at home all the time. 
I’m not baking sourdough. 
My kids don’t want to do arts and crafts. 
Our apartment feels like a one room schoolhouse.
I’ve barely had a moment alone in nearly a week. 

I’m anxious. 
Despite the layers of “we’ll be fine,”
Deep down I know the reality is insane. 
For a year and a half we’ve been in a war. 
Missiles, hostages, never ending death and destruction. 
Unclear plans. 
Will this ever actually end?
And what is the goal? 

I’m grateful. 
For my friends and family and their safety. 
For my apartment with its own safe room so I’m not rushing outside at 3am to a communal space.
For my few remaining Girl Scout Cookies. 
For all the people who have checked in. 

I’m overstimulated. 
There are toys everywhere. 
Zoom schedules to manage. 
Kids yelling and fighting and making fart jokes. 
Paper airplanes are constantly flying over my head. 

I’m sad.
That this is our reality.
That this is the world my kids are growing up in. 
That I chose this life.
That I can’t stop scrolling. 
That this feels endless. 
That the hostages aren’t back, and the soldiers are still dying, and the war isn’t ending for anyone. 

I’m irritated.
By everyone’s opinions from the left to the right. 
That everyone has an opinion.
That everyone has a Telegram channel giving them the most up to date fake news. 
That no one understands what’s going on.
That everyone pretends to be experts.
And yes, I do it too. 
But everyone else still annoys me. Sue me. 

I’m okay.
Because, really, I am.
I have a home, and a family.
WiFi, TV, and some ice cream. 
Although I need more chocolate. And salty snacks.

I’m scared. 
Of losing my sanity without the structure of any normalcy. 
Of a missile hitting my building. 
Of finding shrapnel on a morning walk.
Of what will happen to this country if this war and the other war never end. 
Of what will happen if our anger and need to win defeat us.

I’m feeling guilty. 
There are so many people who have it worse than me. 
An endless list of them. And I haven’t forgotten that. 
But this is still a lot. For all of us. 
And it doesn’t feel like it’s ending any time soon. 

But in the meantime, despite all the feelings, 
I’m still here. 
Rushing to the safe room.
Eating random snacks.
Pretending that tomorrow I’ll become a crafty, sourdough making, home loving lady. 
Or alternatively, that there will be peace. And quiet. 
Maybe? Maybe we will really all be okay. 
One day.