I haven’t been sleeping well. Normally I’m the first to pass out and the last to wake up, but not these days. My family is going through some things and they are difficult, and my anxiety and OCD are beyond bothersome.

I feel sick. Sick with worry for what my family is dealing with; sick with grief over the fascist government we’re living under in the US and the many deaths it’s causing. There’s people out there much smarter and more eloquent who have spoken about what’s happening, so I don’t have much to say that hasn’t already been said. But I’ll try anyway.

Everything that is happening now has happened before, in Gaza, in Europe, in many places across the globe. But the things I learned about in school and through reading books feel different now that we’re living through them here. I feel helpless. I’ll vote, like always, but in my reddest of red states it doesn’t feel like enough. I’ll donate when I can, but my resources are limited.

In Tennessee, we aren’t going through what Minnesota or Maine are going through, probably because our governor is buddy-buddy with the whole regime. I’ll protest, but again, other than showing solidarity with the people who believe as I do, it doesn’t change much down here.

For me, a white person, I have some privilege. I’ll use it when I can to help those around me. If nothing else, I can do that, speak up against injustice when I see it. I hope you will too.

In the meantime, we have to live our lives. I saw an anecdote today about how “we are asked to hold grief, resistance, and joy all at once” and that is so true right now.

I’ve told you about my grief and my plan for resistance, so let me tell you about my joys (mainly because I need reminding more than anyone that they exist).

I turned 40 this month. My husband threw a fabulous party in my honor and I got to spend time with my friends and family. It was amazing.

I’ve been working on polishing my novel and query letter so that I can start querying agents soon. Not so much a joyful experience as “yay, we’re moving forward!” one. It’s hard, but I’m hopeful.

My cats are awesome. They snuggle me and keep me entertained.

That’s all I’ve got for you right now. Keep your family and friends close, and your most vulnerable neighbors closer. I hope you stay safe and fill your life with as much joy as you can while we grieve the times we’re living in and resist fascism.