I like books.


I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Emotional exhaustion

I’m under seize, I don’t mean like attacked by an alien or the dreaded enemy of democracy, whatever that might be, but I am, like many other Americans, still in shock over what I see and hear in the news about the damage caused by Katrina. I know that what I am feeling cannot be compared with what the victims and their families and the workers, who are trying to put the pieces back, are feeling but still, I am finding myself crying all the time. I think about the children and I cry, I think about the elderly and I cry, the animals yep, I cry and on and on. It has gotten to the point where the news is my obsession and I watch it constantly making sure the people are getting taken care of. I call the shelters and I go through things to donate and I want to help and I want to do so much and I can’t.

I think my sudden inability to cope with all the problems of my own life has been impacted by Katrina, and I don't mean to complain or even compare my emotional problems with those of the victims and their families, but I am human and a very sensitive human and seeing the devastion tears at my heart. A woman’s dog saved her and in the news she is giving the dog a drink out of a large cup and I am crying, another woman holds her baby and it is dirty and it is crying and I am crying, they show an arial view of the devastation and I cry.

In addition to what I see on the tube or the internet or read in the papers, I fight with my husband and I realized that the fighting is not the issue but is a symptom of what I am feeling about the victims of katrina. My problems are so insignificant and petty and then when my family complains, I just want to kick them in the butts. I can’t even drink hot coffee or take a hot shower without thinking about all those who don’t have the luxury of their own kitchen or bathroom and then I feel such guilt.

I wish I were like Mother Theresa and could just go from one human suffering place to another and help and make things better. I wish I was God and I would not let these things happen.


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