How do you keep it up?
Are you over it? I’m over it. I’m doing well. At least, that’s what I think sometimes. It’s obviously not what I wanted, but that’s life. I’m not going to lie. It’s been an adjustment, but the world keeps turning.
And I’m an adult. I have children who count on me. I mean, they don’t listen to me, but I can’t just curl up in a ball and grumble.
Sometimes I’m ashamed of how distant I think about it. The me of September would be ashamed of how well I hold it together. I’ve become the person who giggles at a funeral.
I’ll admit, I was blindsided, but I knew this could happen. I was proud of being a contrarian when all the other supporters were putting the cart before the horse. I’ve done my research. I have read all the articles. I know the history. This has happened before. Not so long ago!
It will probably happen again.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m thinking about it. Mainly in the morning. It usually sticks around for a while, the desire to be in charge all day long. As I get my coffee, I always ask the same questions: “Is this real? How did this happen?”
I have studied all the numbers thoroughly, trying to figure out who is to blame. Sometimes I think I care too much. Other times I feel like my emotional state means I have lost the capacity for empathy.
I am a numb shell of a former compassionate human being.
It happens every morning. Then I shake it off, wake my kids up for school, and face reality: the New York Jets aren’t making the playoffs. They have Aaron Rodgers, Davante Adams and that defense! All those weapons! And they are finished.
It’s brutal.
Anyway, I’m doing well. We’ll be fine.
Maybe…
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Story produced by Lucie Kirk. Editor: Remington Korper.
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