Stages of grief

Before I begin this post, I want to make it clear that this is about how I feel,  and how I feel is not open for debate, so if you're spoiling for a fight, please go somewhere else. 

I am avoiding the news: I can't face it. There could be a third world war for all I know. 

Last Friday morning my brother rang up to say "Isn't it awful?" and I shut him down. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry but I really don't."

My other brother sent me a text:
"Feeling so depressed about the election. Our man got a majority of 27,000."

Me: 
"I am too depressed to talk about it."

I was in shock. 

I couldn't believe that so many people were wiling to vote for someone they know is a liar. And that so many people didn't seem to care about poverty, the crisis in the NHS, the increase in homelessness, in racism, in awful working conditions, the lack of funding in schools, the likely future infringement of civil rights, the lack of care about global warming, etc, etc - the list goes on and on.

It's not just me. There are an awful lot of people on Twitter who feel the same, who are too stunned to think about what to do next, about leaders or strategies or anything else. People like me who can't bear to look at a newspaper because even a photo of the new Prime Minister makes them feel sick. 

On Saturday I met with good friends who share a lot of my interests, including politics, but none of us could bear to talk about what was bothering us the most.

On Monday I was stomping around in a mood as I prepared the vegan nut roast and the veggie nut roast for Saturday's OFF Christmas family meal. I was mean, I was snarky, I was full of resentment, and poor old Dave kept asking if he'd done something to annoy me. 

"No, no," I said. 

It was at teatime that I realised I'd moved on from shock to anger. 

It's Wednesday today, and I spent half an hour sorting out presents for one brother and one sister's Christmas presents. They wanted a donation to charity. It was such fun giving money away to people who really need it.

And I've just been in Sheffield where I saw a large graffiti (yes, Pete, I know it is technically graffito if it's only one, but that is way too formal) and the graffiti made me laugh.

It was a very rude, two word rejection of the new PM written in large bold capital letters.

Yes, it made me laugh. It cheered me right up. Can I move on to the another stage now? Acceptance, perhaps?  

I will leave you with this quote from Martin Luther King:

We must accept finite disappointment but never lose infinite hope.