Save the World 

I’m angry.

On the surface I act and feel well,  myself, bubbly and well…happy.  I am!  I am.

I can’t ignore however,  an undercurrent of ugly, black, anger.  To reuse a metaphor, the river flowing past my little Island is thick, grey and putrid.  Now and then I dip in a toe,  as when hearing of the events described below…

It starts with my world and spreads outwards to everything I come across. Friends, work, the country and so on.

I’m angry that I’ve changed. Romantic me is gone for the foreseeable! I’ve tried dating,  but every time I feel the slightest fondness for someone I shut it down.  Nope,  sorry you seemingly perfect person you,  not gonna risk it. Ciao!

Cynicism or wisdom who knows.

I’m angry that my best friend’s love for her partner of 5 years is being unfairly quenched by their taking different forks in the path.  I’m angry that she and he are hurting,  and that I can’t make their separately beautiful worlds collide and absorb one another like they once did.

I’m angry at work. About the amount of women we see on our ward who have beautiful babies in their arms,  but haven’t been shown enough love themselves to know what to do.  Their instincts take over and they learn what their child needs but sometimes,  maybe because of a habit they slipped into or a violent man they love…they’re forced to leave our ward without the baby they’ve carried for 9 months.
I’m angry for them.  Their addictions and lives are so unimaginably difficult and, not entirely their doing,  it isn’t fair.
Our world can be so, so dark.

I’m angry that my friend’s husband slept with another woman when she was late in pregnancy.  That her life,  so beautifully laid out before her is in pieces because one man didn’t understand cause and effect. What fucking fantasy land do they live in?! That,  when talking to friends about cheating,  so many of them have their own version of the story, only unveiled when they realise they aren’t alone.

I’m angry for a friend who has recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer, young, full of life and with a beautiful family.  I’m angry that she is one in a million experiencing the same.

I’m angry for the woman on ward who has been being emotionally and physically abused by her partner for 10 years,  with nobody knowing.  She has no friends,  she never leaves the house,  she has no money…. How can people exist in such shadows without anyone seeing. How can men like him exist without consequence. May the consequence land on him like a tonne of bricks now she’s told me.

I’m angry that the suicide bomber in Manchester got through our security,  targeting children, teenagers…people.  I hate that we can only read the news, cry, show solidarity or anger and do little else.  We have no power to shine light into the dark places of minds like his.

Even though I’m happy in day to day life,  keeping busy, gardening, hiking, meeting friends, progressing at work….

…I just can’t shake this feeling of hatred and anger at the world we live in,  and my helplessness within it.

My little torch of barmy positivity isn’t enough.

I can’t save the World.

Why cant I save the World…

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