It’s been 6 years since I have had the courage and fortitude to finally sit down and speak to all that has happened to the world and to me since 2017. The world is surely different here in 2023 than it was in 2017. The events that have unfolded in this time have taken many, many people down. Mentally, physically and psychically. I certainly know that I am not singled out, but I do know that it has taken everything in my toolkit to get to today. Let’s look at it in order of events. Throughout everything, I might add I have worked full time as a Professor at Suffolk County Community College. I have put my heart and soul into that work as I love being a Professor Anthropology and Women’s and Gender Studies. If this is the first time you’re reading my blog, you might also want to know that I have Type 1 Adult Onset diabetes. For almost 30 years now. I also wouldn’t made it through all of this without the companionship of my beautiful dog, Pearl. Of course, my fabulous family and friends are there for me all the way.

2017 – My partner, John, had a terrible car crash that landed him in the hospital for a week and a DUI that was never resolved. Not two weeks after that, I was in the postition of having to go to Tennessee, where I’m from, and clear out my mother’s house and possessions and put her into an assisted living establishment where she would be properly looked after. 2018 – A good year, overall. I got to take a group of friends for 10 days to my favorite place, Glastonbury, Somerset, England. During this year, however, John was changing. His personality and his drinking habits were getting much, much worse. He could put on a charming face, but on a day to day basis, life was becoming untenable. 2019 – Here is where everything fell apart. John was going to his court dates – I made sure of that – and becoming more and more a completely different person. He began calling himself “Jack” and told me that John, the one I fell in love with in 2008, was dead. On March 13, he took his own life after threatening to take mine as well. [More on that later.] I went on with life as best as I could with my fabulous family and friends there for me all the way. I went to Sarajevo, Bosnia for a conference on women’s issues in that country and I continued on to England to have a sit down in Glastonbury and do some healing as well as more fieldwork. I continued into the Fall Semester that year and rounded into the Spring. I found a therapist. I talked and talked about John and about my mother. I was diagnosed with C/PTSD. I cried a river of tears. 2020 – I went on a week’s cruise on the Mississippi River with my Aunt Jan. I would like to say that I was feeling better, but even on vacation, I was close to panicky tears all of the time.The spring semester started. So did COVID-19. Irony? Maybe. On the first anniversary of John/Jack’s death, we were locked down. March 13, it seems is not a fortuitous day, close to the Ides of March, perhaps the calendar has shifted a bit. So we all – or most of us – began a period of lock down. The College put every class online, as that was the only option. So, I endured that anniversary alone. The very worst part of this was that I could no longer go to England and Wales for both personal solace and for more fieldwork. I worked on myself through meditation, ZOOM sessions with my therapist and the occasional doctor appointment. And a great deal of red wine. Like the English, I have a water chaser with every glass, so no ill effects. 2021 – My mother died in January just after she turned 89. None of us had gotten to see her since lock down and I’m pretty sure that was part of her death. The official reason was sepsis from constant UTIs. So, the year was the same as 2020. Locked down. ZOOM classes for every subject and also asynchronous online with no contact with students except through writing. But, I have been doing those classes for many years and have no problem with that. Again, lots of red wine. And the occasional G & T or dirty gin Martini. I spent most of my time alone, in my head, trying to work out what had gone so wrong. I cried an ocean of tears. All of the time. And, I was severely depressed all of the time. Nothing new, but much, much deeper. The only being that helped my days and days of being at home alone was, again, Pearl. But, 2021 brought me some true joy as well. The world opened up a bit and my only child, who lives in Buffalo with a lovely partner, decided to come down and do a driving trip down to Tennessee and back. First to see Aunt Jan after 18 months away, second to deposit mother’s ashes in her hometown, Saltillo, and third to go through the Smoky Mountains and also see the Titanic attraction in Pigeon Forge. We had a glorious time. But, the southern environs had completely given up on COVID protocols. There were thousands of tourists in Pigeon Forge and hardly a mask in sight. That was pretty scary as New York was still under very strict guidelines, even with vaccines. We didn’t eat in restaurants and kept ourselves to ourselves. . . In the fall semester, we went back to our regular work schedules albeit with masks. My problem? I would still just break down crying for no obvious reason. The only place that I felt safe was at my own house.