It just occurred to me.
Lately, I’ve been wondering if, as I’ve aged, I’ve been ossifying, becoming less resilient. I have had more and more trouble accepting and handling the difficulties that life throws at a person. From daily challenges of a more or less petty nature all the way up to my responses to reporting on global catastrophes that have absolutely zero bearing on me.

A conflict with a fellow student or coworker was once, yes, a problem. But it didn’t tend to poison my outlook for weeks on end. National politics was on my radar, but didn’t cause me to fear for my personal safety. Reports on international genocide upset me but not to the point where I didn’t want to, you know, acknowledge the actual existence of humanity.
Yes, absolutely, I would get upset and cranky. But even in the midst of all of that, I would still make lunch and wash the dishes and get my homework done. Not so much any more. Basic human function has over the past few years become more and more difficult.

But now. It occurs to me. I have to acknowledge that the world is SO much more fucked up than it has ever been before – in my experience at least. So my reaction to this must necessarily be more extreme. It has become difficult to find the mental space to just step back far enough to be able to say, “Oh, yeah; that’s a lot to process.”
Let alone actually process, like, ANY of it.
So maybe…maybe I’m not less resilient. Just possibly I’m just really, really pushing at the limits of my resilience.

I feel that this might actually be true, because I sort of feel a little relief as I say it.