I am exhausted.

It has been such a hard week in this country, and, as an extremely empathetic person who has close ties to multiple mass shootings, is the daughter of immigrants (hmmm, when were they naturalized? I actually have no idea and neither is here for me to ask), is coming up on the first anniversary of the loss of a close family member, is bummed about missing most of the trick-or-treating time with her kids tomorrow, has a bunch of assignments and even more commitments in the next few days, and feels like she is constantly walking the tightrope of work-life balance, I am just exhausted.

And so, I am here.  With my friend, my blog.

Because I know, even in writing this that I am not alone — not alone in being exhausted, not alone in feeling so discouraged at the lack of respect for humanity that sometimes circulates around me, not alone in feeling frustrated that, at this point in the semester, even 30 minutes of time wasted feels like throwing away a precious gift, not alone in being paranoid that my friends and family are upset with me if they don’t respond right away because I’ve alienated them with all my busyness, not alone in being concerned about my future, my family’s future, the nation and the world’s future.

But writing gives me hope.

As long as there is this blog, there is a platform, for me to get my thoughts out of my mind and into the world. There is a place for me to leave these thoughts and come back to myself. There is a way for me to reach out and find home again.

So, I’m exhausted today. I know I’ll be okay, but I’m just so tired right now.  If you’re exhausted too, I’m sending you much love.  I hope we’ll both get the rest we need so we can journey on together.