WTAF. For those of who aren’t familiar with this acronym it stand for “What In The Actual Fuck” and it’s been coming out of my mouth with surprising speed and frequency these days. I have yet to find a better 5 words to describe what is going on in this season of life and the world. I started this blog to talk about my experiences with chronic illness, but there is no way I can separate myself and my illness from the context of the world in which I currently live. Life and living are political right now.

It feels like we are living in some dystopian fever dream that just when you think the dream has reached its climax of doom, fear, and bat shit craziness, the dream continues and the doom, fear, and level of bat shit craziness just increases. I don’t watch the news, but I read Heather Cox Richardson most days and have yet to get through one of her brilliantly written posts without saying WTAF at least once. I sign petitions to release people from detention whose only crimes are not being born in the U.S, having tattoos, and/or speaking out against genocide and I think WTAF. I send comments, letters, emails, etc to my representatives imploring them to protect our immigrant neighbors, our government workers, our transgender siblings, our public health officials, our health research, our museums, our democracy, and I find myself saying WTAF.

If you follow this blog you may have noticed it’s been awhile since I have written anything and that’s because what I am going through/dealing with related to my illnesses seems pretty minor to what so many others are facing and dealing with each day. It seems pretty ridiculous to wax and wane about my journey with grief when there are families right now who are trying to figure out which “detention center” their loved one has been sent to and when/if they will ever see them again. Talking about the trials and tribulations of weekly vision therapy doesn’t seem that important when I think about the hundreds of thousands of government workers who are trying to figure out how to put food on the table for themselves and their families after losing their jobs thanks to political stunts shrouded in the idea of reining in government spending. Writing about my fear of losing my social security and medicare doesn’t seem that important when there are people losing the right to be who God made them to be.

The WTAF hit home this week when the Office of Long Covid Policy and Research was closed and cowards behind the screens of computers began erasing anything related to Long Covid from government websites. It’s ironic to have what many term an “invisible illness” and then have your government work to really make it invisible. Just like white washing history, banning transgender athletes, and deporting people doesn’t erase their existence or the truth, erasing Long Covid from government websites and defunding programs isn’t going to erase Long Covid. Millions of people will still have Long Covid, they just won’t be able to access desperately needed care and resources. While this is painful, it is but a small drop in the bucket of pain millions of people are dealing with in this country right now.

I don’t have the answers for getting through this time that feels like a nightmare we can’t wake up from. I do know that somehow despite it all we have to continue living. We have to continue doing things that bring joy. We have to continue laughing. We have to continue being kind in a world where it’s very easy to become bitter. We have to continue thinking of others at a time when it’s very easy to narrow our perspective and want to just focus on ourselves and our problems. We have to remind ourselves that what happens to one and happens to all. We have to give inordinate amounts of grace because we are living in a time in which there is no handbook for how to get through. Everyone is doing the best they can. We have to surround ourselves with people who bring calm and offer a safe place to land where our humanness is celebrated and where we can be our prickly, messy, raw, and imperfectly perfect selves.

So friends, speak up, live, laugh, be kind, find courage to use your voice in ways you never have before, and keep a tally of how many times a day you say WTAF.. who knows you might end up with a world record.