The world has again gone quiet in such a disruptive and unfortunate way that I am losing sleep. To pinpoint the exact reason, I would have to look much farther into the dark spaces of my mind than I care to at the moment.

Every day the virus numbers on the television climb, and they talk of segregation, distancing, and a halt to everything we know. The only break from the unrelenting echoing of those with their own agenda are the acts of mother nature or humans doing more damage to other humans. It, quite honestly, makes me long for more virus statistics.

I have never been fond of the things one human can do to another, and I have seen more evil in the world than most. Yet, watching a mother hand over her infant to a stranger in hopes for a better life never fails to make my eyes water and my stomach ache.

Meaningless Troubles

The most prevalent issue I have faced inside my own home in the last week has been a pair of fruit flies that have taken up residency. Seemingly meaningless in comparison, I find it hard to let my mind wander too far down that rabbit hole. Soon after, a simple thought turns quickly into nightmares.

The air feels denser recently, and anxiety seems to strike me at the strangest times. The feeling of the world shifting beneath my feet leaves me feeling unstable. I am unsure exactly why, but I have carefully evaluated everything from the type of TV I watched to changes in medication or food.

Current world events seem to be the most logical answer yet; somehow, it feels different.

I find it hard to muster enough self-loathing to actually feel pity for myself. Instead, I grit my teeth and bear through, as if it will soon go away with no effort. The possibility of this being the case is fairly slim, but I digress anyway.

The Future Is Already Exhausting

With a mind that has not had the decency to shut up in days, I have found myself already stressing over the coming days, weeks, even months. For lack of better things to do, I assume. In an almost laughable way, lack of sleep has me on a repeated loop of stress.

Stress for no reason, which is worse. My brain won’t quiet down, and my fingers seem to be confused. Writing has not come easily. Quite frankly, I would take losing my marbles as a completely realistic diagnosis at this point in time, a much more acceptable diagnosis had it not prayed on my every weakness.

This newfound love of completely losing my mind is also accompanied by persistent headaches and being easily startled. Combining them all gives me a fairly noticeable “straight jacket” demeanor, as I now like to call it.

I Forgot My Lines

It feels like a culminating point in the movie where you know something will happen; you just aren’t sure what it is. I’m not even sure what type of movie it is either, which is quite unsettling, to say the least.

While I swim around in the vat of redundancy that is my mind, I can’t help but question what’s next. Lines have been crossed, rights have been stripped, people have died, and the powers that be have no direct answers. In a few short months, tension overseas has escalated, virus cases have skyrocketed, neighbors fight over their beliefs, and we as a society have stalled in progression.

We can not get better in our current state. Our hands have been tied, our children have been threatened, and our rights dwindle. The plot is and will continue to thicken. We are at the climax in the movie, where something has to be done. Taking no action is just as a deciding factor as making a move.

It begs the question,

What kind of movie are we in?