Why I Left This Time
There are so many ways to say “it’s time to go.” Kenny Rogers says “you gotta know when to hold them, when to fold them.” Nat King Cole said “the party’s over.” My favorite way to express the sentiment is “fuck this shit.” The US sucks right now. The fuckery, already at ridiculous levels, was insupportable. Day after day there was/is another piece of shit being squeezed out of the bowels of the Anti-Christ sitting on the throne of my country.
It has already been a rough year. Family illness, taking my sister into my home after she lost her sight, dealing with incompetent relatives— it was already TOO much. When I first saw it all coming down the pike after the election, I thought about ways that I could fight the craziness. My friend said “I can’t leave. someone has to drive the train.” I figured that I could be a safe house, offer meals, connect folks to resources. However, as another, then another turd was delivered via the Republican pipeline, my resilience drained away. At some point, I had to save myself.
Years ago, after I’d mothered 7 kids and was down to 5, my mother tried to get me to help her support my nephew’s precarious friend. Valentin said “we have enough children. We can’t take on anything else.” I always felt that if I had something to offer, I should. (I’ve since worked on developing healthier boundaries). I asked a friend “how do you know if you’ve done enough?” She said “if what you’re doing is damaging your health or it’s damaging your relationship with the other important people in your life, it’s time to stop.” At the time, I was waking up, feeling as if I was strangling, my heart was palpitating wildly and I had, according to an acupuncturist, “dead pulse”. I thought “the biggest killers of Black women are stress, obesity and high blood pressure.” I wasn’t overweight, nor did I have HBP, but the stress…Damn. I made the decision to send my stepchildren back to their mother. If I dropped dead, who would’ve taken care of MY boys?
Well, I’d started feeling that way as the political shit storm gathered speed.
8/17/25 I called my nephew in Cali and told him that he and his brother need to step up to the plate and take care of their mom because I am leaving the country next year.
8/26/25
My friend asked me if I’d read Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler. I did so last year after hearing how fabulous it was. Honestly, I wasn’t impressed and I realized that since I am a fan of dystopian/post apocalyptic fiction anyway POTS didn’t phase me. Ever since I was little, I felt that shit was going to hit the fan so I’ve always been prepared in my mind to survive when it eventually comes. It’s curious to see people trying to salvage the system. We’ve been living with all this time and it doesn’t even work that well. I’d rather see it all crumble and then we can restart. Every great civilization has fallen and now it’s America’s turn.
8/27/25
I've been telling my sons for the last 2 years to get their passports. I knew shit was going to hit the fan eventually and here it is. At this point I'm about to get my dog Frodo a passport and get the fuck out of here. Yesterday my husband was waiting for a delivery from Home Depot at his job site. Turns out ICE stopped the truck two blocks away and detained one of the employees. My son works in the building where they were headed. I've been telling him that he is a mark, a young brown man with locs and tattoos and DC is even more dangerous for him with this current situation. My beloved clueless husband said "oh he'll be okay. They won't stop him." I had to explain this situation to him as calmly as I could. " You grew up under a dictator so to you this feels normal. Do you understand that they are stopping and detaining AMERICAN CITIZENS?! So no, Valentin. Our son is not safe. I want him to quit that job, get his passport and leave this place until this bullshit occupation is over. Honestly, I just wanted to STRANGLE Valentin for being so damn clueless. He's willing to let our son walk into hell so that he can fix garbage disposals at an apartment bldg on Georgia Ave. WTF?!!!
8/28/25
My anxiety about Zazu's safety poured out of me as tears yesterday and I've started looking for a housesit in Mexico. I'm not gonna let this take me out. I got my Social security printout yesterday and it's official-- I'm retiring next year on my 62nd bday. I know how to live frugally so I'll be ok.
8/29/25
Like I said, "that's not my assignment" is my favorite saying these days. I've gotten to the point where I don't want to do much for anyone. A few years ago Zen commented that I wasn't as loving and chill as I used to be. I told him that my oxytocin level was dust so I had less patience for bullshit. When I was traveling I started thinking of my life as an hourglass with only a finite amount of sand up top. I decided that I wanted to use that time wisely in service to myself. Call it age, call it wisdom, call it being post-menopausal. Caring and caretaking in that manner is OVER. I just applied to two housesits in Scotland because I would rather be alone on a cold, foggy farm in a foreign country than here managing my family's needs. I'm sending my sister to live with her son sooner rather than later in Oakland even though it's not an ideal situation. Since he's not answering the phone, I've sent messages to him "come get your mama because I am leaving Maryland by the end of October."On the off chance that he won't come, I've started looking for emergency housing for her because she is not Valentin's assignment either. All I want to do is play and enjoy myself, and do purposeful work in some way. Living in the US is making me sick.
