Today’s news really rattled me.
I got through the work day and then numbed out in front of the TV playing Apex Legends for what feels like forever (but was actually like 4-ish hours?).
I felt like doing something, but every single thing I could think of felt useless. Writing feels useless, because who’s going to read what I have to say? Calling on people to act feels useless because this war has been going on for 155 days and there’s still somehow people who call for a “compromise”. Making “art” (whether going out to take picutres or making music or filming a little video) feels useless because… What am I going to show that’s not already all over social media (most of it with a “sensitivity warning” because Meta products don’t want to make people sad, boohoo).
So, like, what do I do?

A lot of great art gets made despite (because of?) war. A lot of great music, poetry, novels, etc. have been written during times of war.
Most good art seems to have come in the aftermath of wars, but you see… There’s no way for me to know for sure that I’m going to make it out of this alive.
So, I realize that my options are to find a way to power through what I’m feeling and try to make something, or continue to numb myself out - working at work, making money, donating money, contributing at least financially to the eventual Ukrainian victory.
But even then…
While russia exists as a nation/state/people, Ukraine will never be safe.
The Ukrainian army can win 99% of every battle, but russia still has nuclear weapons that they might be just crazy enough to use (out of despiration).

I should probably see a therapist to talk through this, but what are they going to tell me that I don’t already know?
When I panic - I should try to “ground myself” and realize that I’m alive, I’m (relatively) safe, I’ve got food and shelter.
And then they’re going to tell me to do breathing exercises.
And then they’re going to tell me that I need to keep doing the things I enjoy, and keep doing work, and keep donating money, and keep making sure that the soldiers on the front lines have something worth fighting for.
And then when I tell them that I can’t do the things I enjoy because I can’t they’ll maybe direct me to a psichiatrist who might assign me antidepressants.

And in the end, none of that is actually going to make any real impact on the way I feel, because there’s a fucking war going on.

So, that’s where I’m at.