Are We Not Suffering Enough for You, America?

SimplyRheumatoid.com
Nov 9, 2020
10 min read

Sadly, this year has taken a sledgehammer to my heart, and for people with autoimmune diseases like myself, I feel broken beyond repair. I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Disease over six years ago. Initially, I thought I just broke two toes, but I knew it was more than that when I could not keep up with my friends in spin class. Over the years, I have changed my diet, managed my stress, fixed my out of place ribs, and achieved ‘technical remission.’ Despite all of that, when talk of a pandemic began, my husband and I began to fear the worst. I stand to lose many people I love if the pandemic is not managed and controlled: my in-laws; my parents; my sister with a liver and mental health condition; a friend who is battling a serious health condition; my neighbor, a veteran who is struggling to care for his wife with dementia; my nephews, who I love like my own; my husband who must travel by air for work. You would think I would be more scared of dying myself, but my Rheumatologist told me I had about ten ‘good’ years before my body completely craps out on me over six years ago, so honestly, I fear the pain of living with the losses of those I love more.

I feel like America has lost all of its empathy and values. Over two years ago, I had a colossal, hurtful argument with two people I once loved. The reason, of course, was Facebook. I had just finished cooking dinner for everyone when the wine I had supplied for the meal, I guess, began to kick in for the two people enjoying it. In a screaming rage in front of my husband and father—I was made aware that I was nobody and nothing because I did not have any friends or followers on Facebook. Naturally, this exchange lead to a quick exit from the scene, and two relationships left broken beyond repair. I have said some things I should not have while throwing back one glass too many, but those comments stung deep. Where did the respect for your elders go? Where did the respect for human beings go? I had to investigate what happened to the brains of those who think and feel this way. What I discovered was that I was in the minority, and the majority do feel that way. Terrifying.

The first two weeks I was on Facebook, I felt sick. I could not believe what I was seeing. MAGA hat selfies. Posts of people using high-powered firearms or snaps of their kids using guns. I get it. We all want to be badasses, but the first thing I thought when I saw those pictures was not that I wanted to be their friend; I thought they were saying that they would take me out if I disagreed with them about anything. I thought the goal was to make as many friends as possible. I guess I am out of touch with how to make friends. I prefer sharing a good book, recipe, or movie, but that is me. I am a huge Walking Dead fan. I know who Jerry Miculek is, but I do not need to be in your face about it. The more I investigated, the more I discovered posts that lacked any sense of decorum. Posts where the only thing people could think of to comment was ‘f*** you, so and so,’ mainly aimed at politicians because I guess some either do not have the time or skills to convey their disappointment any other way. I suppose people would rather say, ‘f*** you’ than find a way to communicate their counterargument or submit a plan they would like to see implemented because it just takes too much time. As I looked through individual feeds and saw their posts and likes, I noticed their behaviors. I noticed that some people responded or did not respond when you engaged or disengaged from them. Let me say this: Being on Facebook is work.

Growing up, we believed that you might be lucky enough to find one person, your soulmate, who was supposed to make you happy and complete. That one person would dominate your time, mind, and heart. Loving that one person is a job.

Facebook users are also jockeying for your time, love, and attention, and they are doing it at a rate that far outpaces anything I could have ever foreseen or imagined. I knew it was terrible, but I did not really know until I saw it all for myself. Being on Facebook is the worst experience I have endured in a while, and I have survived many challenges throughout my life.

I was a Homeland fan like many of you, so when I saw the episodes where Max found the bot farms, I knew that a digital war was well underway. I hid my marital status on purpose and noticed that I mainly received friend requests from men with only one or two images, which the bots thought I would respond to, assuming that I was so desperate for friends that I would just accept the request. Granted, I did accept a few friend requests from people I did not know, but it was to see what would happen. I had engaged with one or two people on Facebook who I found questionable. I know Facebook is a tool. It has its uses for good, like when I follow World Central Kitchen and see all the good they are doing in the world. However, this tool has been terrible for my mental health and has led me to believe that I must trust no one. I am not so sure about the people who I thought were my ‘friends’ anymore. I am questioning everyone and every interaction I have ever had with them. I am examining every new conversation I have now. I have seen people taking every social media post or comment, especially those with typos, to turn on someone and publicly shame him/her. The silence and lack of support from my friends on racial justice and equality are blistering my head. I feel mistrust to the point where I have thought about giving up drinking alcohol entirely because I fear the firing pin, which is ready to be released, and I am frightened that my life will be wiped out by a drunken Instagram or Facebook comment. Again, I am entitled to my feelings, and my real sense is that Russia won. Game over. Well played. I want to believe we can repair the damage and pick up the shattered fragments of our once respected and loved country, but I am skeptical. My Carries from Homeland are absent. My Quinns and Maxes are MIA, and I feel abandoned and left for dead. It feels like America gave up on me, the baby of a Mexican-American dream. Sometimes, I do not have the strength to keep fighting, but then I see slivers of light like in the ‘Lord of the Rings.’ A voice calls to me to go toward the light, it is Padma Lakshmi.

When I watched Kamala Harris and Padma Lakshmi @padmalakshmi talk on Facebook about how important representation is for everyone, it brought me to tears. I could not bear to watch the whole conversation because, at this moment, it hurts too much. Then shortly after that, I see Chef José Andrés @chefjoseandres running a massive, global humanitarian mission to feed the weak and weary while still finding the time to be the people's voice. And like the candy bar my dad would bring me home from his long day at work, Chef Andrés also finds the time to give us a little joy in the darkness by cooking and singing for us with his family on Instagram—pure delight. Watching those moments made my heart soar with light and love. I don’t know how these heroes find the energy to keep fighting, but I’m glad they do because so many are lost and are looking for leaders to guide them back to the light. Although I was a tad disappointed the sports teams decided to go back to work, I get it. They have families to feed and bills to pay, and more importantly, they must also be the leaders we all need. When I saw Lebron James’s @kingjames emotional post saying he wanted to do everything in his power to ‘lift black women’s voices,’ a piece of my heart wanted to glow with hope again. When John Leguizamo @johnleguizamo posts about ‘mi gente’ and the need for us to band together and reclaim the value our contributions make to the world, my heart briefly lights up, but it quickly fades. I know the world we live in—me and mine vs. you and yours—the world where having 20 toilets and a private jet is essential, and the rest of us are pesky, irritating annoyances who are necessary but only until the bots are ready.

I recently made Google searches asking, ‘where the adults went’ and ‘why aren’t they doing more,’ but I realize that this chaos is sadly good for some businesses. Smith and Wesson seem to be doing fine. Instead of making plans, sharing, and exchanging ideas, we wish to wipe out those who disagree with us or don’t get our pain. I have always felt that junior highs and high schools should teach people how to deal with emotions and hurt feelings. This pandemic and political chaos have even made me upset enough to lash out, and I usually can keep my feelings in check. To say I don’t understand how difficult and stressful it is to deal with the COVID-19 sanitation protocols grossly underestimates what those of us living with autoimmune diseases cope with daily. My in-laws have nicknamed me ‘the sanitizer,’ and we have had many fights over the years due to my fears and need to keep healthy. We have also learned how to apologize and make up after those incidents. Every fight leaves a scar and a stress imprint on my body and mind. Every time we make up, hug, and cry it out, it stitches up our hearts, lowers our stress levels, and allows us to heal. We always find a way to make up for one reason: we all love my husband more than anything. Yes, I may have overreacted occasionally, but when you have an autoimmune disease, and you know your parents are counting on you to someday fulfill their estate planning wishes, you feel the sense of responsibility to do everything you can to make it one more day, one more month, one more year, even if you feel mentally and emotionally exhausted. When your husband, who pays the bills and has every James Bond skill in the book, depends on you to help him sometimes because he has slight dyslexia, you feel you must keep going.

I decided to try and write this for two reasons. First, for my hero Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who encouraged us to use our voices even if they shake. For me, tense, compound sentences, and misplaced commas are problems, according to Grammarly. Shout out to Martha Stewart for not being ashamed of a happy hour typo. Secondly, I saw a Twitter post from Kumail Nanjiani @kumailn about what the pandemic has done to his family, and it ate away at me. I feel their pain. I want them to know they aren’t alone in this ugly moment in time and that I know it's hard, but we must be strong. We can't give up. Too many people depend on us to share our pain and reality to make real, lasting change.

For the second time in my life, I went and protested at the Sacramento State Capitol with my sister. I was proud to do so for the Black Lives Movement, Mi Gente, and US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I want to believe she is resting in peace. Now, we must all use our voices and vote, and not only with a ballot. We are casting votes now for the most crucial presidential race of my time, and for our collective futures, by voting with our likes, follows, shopping carts, money, investments, movies, TV, books, art, etc. Everything we do is a vote. How we spend our time is a vote. I have much more to say, but quite frankly, I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. I wish I could rally and channel my inner Mission Impossible badass heroine, but my heart tells me to rest. We voted.

Lastly, I must apologize to a few celebrities @michelleobama @barackobama @andreanavedo @dominiquecrenn @kingjames @johnleguizamo @arianagrande @selenagomez just to name a few, that I may have sent a less than sober comment of love and affection—LOL. I wanted to post a picture of my family that I had hoped would have brought a smile to your face, but I fear sisterly relation for posting their 80’s looks, so my solo picture and description of the scene will have to do, unfortunately (see my 80s look below). My father always played Feliz Navidad every Christmas at our house. Now imagine an abundance of Aqua Net, Drakkar Noir, and Coco Chanel mixing in the air. My mother is cooking in the background, making a traditional American turkey dinner with additions made from scratch: rice, beans, tortillas, and her famous ‘dragon breath’ salsa. Boyfriends, girlfriends, friends were always stopping by to enjoy the food, lively conversations, and fun. The blender was continually going, mixing up strawberry daiquiris and piña coladas. The decibel level in the house was high, with boisterous laughter as everyone jockeyed for attention. Prince, Madonna, Aerosmith, and Michael Jackson frequently made late-night appearances on the record player with the disco ball. Then everyone was always welcome at my house, no matter what.

I cannot understand why some want to believe people like my parents, aunts, and uncles had time to be ‘bad hombres,’ but my parents worked two to three jobs. When they were not doing those jobs, they were grocery shopping, cleaning the house, or taking us to the dentist, doctor, school, or the mall.

If leadership is absent, we can be the leaders if we choose.

VOTE! Use your voice. Together we can get through the darkest of times if we keep true to our core beliefs. Keeping in this vote encouragement for the Georgia State Senate runoffs.

On a final note, I would like to thank the @hallmarkchannel Hallmark Channel; I think you are listening. I noticed the changes with Jingle Bell Bride. I appreciate the effort made. I will stay optimistic that someday, I will get my Hallmark Holiday Movie.

Saying the above with only love in my heart for all,

Lidia (not a writer so I'm hitting publish like this, I meant to post this three days ago but I chickened out.)