My mastodon instance is down..

So this –my federated blog on mastodon– is where you contact me. Or on my insta account.

Mastodon is where I go to get emotional support when watching a genocide play out in real time. It’s the place where you can say “are you seeing what I’m seeing?” And not get swallowed up by trolls, because we have admins and server rules.

So it’s been hard, trying to make Christmas magical for my 3 year old, and watching people’s goodbye videos, saying there’s no way out. That tanks block all exits, as bombs land nearby. Hearing that they all died that night while I slept.

Remembering that (short lived) fear I had during the gulf war. I didn’t know it wouldn’t get serious where I was or be as short as it was. Our government told us to tape up the windows, handed out guns to anyone who wanted them, and let us out of school a day before the war would start. Cos the U.S was kind enough to give us a start date.

I know that feeling of “I could die and never be more than a number”. Of just wanting to be seen. To matter. I remember those tears of helplessness. Especially as – not that long ago- that was also my reaction to being high risk during a pandemic, and waiting for any news of my vaccine date. (Spain used age brackets, not high risk status, for roll outs.)

So it hits hard, seeing those videos. Knowing it’s just luck that it’s not me where they are.

And then my kid has an emergency : her plastic frog dropped into her extremely full potty. And I am back here and now. I have lunch to plan and prep and shop for, winter activities planned.

We weren’t meant to be everywhere online like we are. It’s this wild feeling of grief and helplessness.