I am so fucking tired of being angry.
It is draining being this fucking angry all the time. It’s always there, bubbling in my chest or just behind my eyeballs. But there is so much that I see everyday that makes me angry. And I can’t keep quiet. I just can’t. Even though I just want a shower and to watch Christmas movies and eat ice cream and be oblivious. Instead I’m sitting here writing in anger and tiredness, needing to get it onto the page so it doesn’t all stay in my head.
No prizes for guessing why I’m angry today.
I left Britain a long time ago. I’ve not lived there in over a decade, and everytime I return (which is frequently enough, given most of my family live there) it feels a little stranger. But now? I just can’t fathom it anymore. I cannot fathom a country that has elected a Conservative government at a time like this. I cannot understand people who vote for an openly racist and homophobic Prime Minister, a man who is pleased that he knows the cost of a bottle of champagne but not the price of a loaf of bread. I cannot comprehend people who have prioritised “getting Brexit done” over the lives of those who are dying in towers, and on our streets, and right after they’ve been declared fit for work. I do not understand how a decade of tax cuts for corporations and service cuts for the rest of us has lead to mining communities voting Tory for the first time. I cannot empathise with an electorate that shows no empathy for the record numbers of children living in poverty, for the immigrant families being torn apart, for those waiting on trolleys in our increasingly privatised hospitals. I cannot accept the ‘oh it’s just politics, it’s not personal’ because it *is* personal – there are people, real people, who are impacted by these policies and political decisions. And if that isn’t you then I’m glad your privilege is keeping you in a safe bubble right now but unless you’re a fucking billionaire then the Tories aren’t on your side. And I don’t know how many more people have to suffer to make this clear.
And right now, I cannot fathom a way forward. All I have is anger and hurt.
You know what, that’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, it’s all terrible. But my anger and pain is okay. If I’ve learned anything over the last few years, it’s that well-directed anger can change the world. So tomorrow (or maybe after Christmas) we dust ourselves off and organise and put this anger to some good use. And I will hold my daughter close, be thankful for everything we have, and do something meaningful for the vulnerable in my community.
But tonight, I will eat ice cream, cry a little and watch Baby Yoda do something adorable. And breathe through the anger.