Depressed
No, I haven’t written anything the past couple of days. I’m just too bloody depressed. Normally a good rant helps me get over my outrage, but this is all just too much.
Thinking about (and weeping for) the women of Afghanistan. Yes, it’s going to be awful for every Afghan, but the women, who’ve had nearly two decades of education and basic freedom, will bear the worst of it.
I can barely think about the latest IPCC climate report. I’m old enough that I’ll be dead before the worst of the devastation. (Yes, it will get worse.)
And then there are the fucking anti-vaxxers. A fourth wave is seeming unstoppable. More lockdowns. No theatre. Another long, lonely winter looms. Bastards. Stupid, ignorant fucking bastards.
No wonder I’m almost paralysed with depression.
Anne M. Holmes 
meaning I like your honesty not that you are depressed.
i’m with you…truly. Many years ago I met Deborah Ellis (Women for Women in Afghanistan), bought all of her books (for children and teens), and have followed the issues since then, often with a broken heart and intense anger at the brutality of those men, that f#%@ing religion, and the so called civilized world that allows this to continue.
Heartbreaking. All of it.