Today, I went to work. I taught classes for three different students. I discussed everything from time travel to the food industry to the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder. I got Chipotle for lunch. I took my car in for a service and learned that my tires are almost entirely worn down and need to be replaced. I walked in the rain with my mom and her dog, and we met with my dad and two of my parents' friends for wine.
My brother drove me home since it was too risky to drive my car, and I changed into my suit and my new vest that I got from Historical Emporium (seriously, check them out. You won't regret it) while my wife put on some make-up and a lovely dress. Why? Because we wanted to dress up for a wonderful dinner at a French restaurant in the next town over. There was steak tartare, butternut squash soup, salad, and steak frites with Roquefort butter. There was red wine and the latest rounds from the Australian open playing on the nearby TV. There was good conversation and laughter and misunderstandings and forgiveness and noise and silence and love. And afterward, my wife and I snagged some groceries and headed home for some time to ourselves.
And then I deactivated my Twitter account.
In the past, I had always sworn to never use Twitter. I did start using Twitter, and I became addicted. Instant information was my go-to. It was what buoyed my chronic anxiety throughout the presidential election and beyond. Yes, I was following Youtubers and celebrities that I loved, but the politics became too much. The fear was palpable from the screen. I ate it up like greasy food that left me miserable and scared for hours. I was losing myself to panic and worst case scenarios. I couldn't live like that.
I have written the bare minimum these days - what you see on my blog is all that I've been able to create. My connection to social media has severely stunted my ability to live my life. Yes, we live in scary times. Yes, the world could end tomorrow due to an impulsive orange rat, or I could lose my ability to speak my mind freely without punishment. But what's the point of being anxious if it already strips me of my ability to live? As Newt Scamander says in the Fantastic Beasts movie, "Worrying makes you suffer twice." I'm done with suffering twice.
I did not watch the inauguration of the fascist cheeto man today. I refused to. I will fight for my future, but I will also maintain my sanity. I will remember my support system. I will spend time with my loved ones and cherish each minute with my wife. If I let this disgusting wannabe leader take up every aspect of my life, then he has won. I will not let him win.
We have survived one day. Let's make it one more. And then one more. And then one more.
And let's fucking live.