It sucks right now but it's still ok to dream. As a matter of fact, you must.

It’s the year 2022. Brené Brown is celebrating her 100th episode of her podcast, Unlocking Us, with me as her guest. Together, we discuss my memoir, a collection of essays exploring my life as a parent of child with a disability. She tells me she’s been a big fan of my work, ever since she read my first published essay in the New York Time's Modern Love column last year. I confess that I’m having a major fan girl moment and that I almost passed out after receiving her invite.  

We spend 40 minutes discussing my essays, and how they fit into the context of vulnerability. She tells me she looks forward to watching my episode of Modern Love when it comes out on Amazon next month. She thanks me but, of course, the real thanks goes to her and I get helplessly gushy. As we wrap, she gets into the speed round and asks me ten questions I’ve heard over and over for the last two years.  Now it is my time to answer. Vulnerability is: being humble and kind You're called to do something brave. Your fear is real. What is the very first thing you do?: Ask myself, what is the worst thing that can happen? Unless it's a snake and then I will run away. Something that people often get wrong about you: I know when it is inappropriate to swear. Last show you watched, binged, and loved: Dickinson Favorite Movie: When Harry Met Sally A concert you will never forget: Mary Chapin Carpenter. I went with my mom, and it was in Northampton, Mass in 2007. Favorite meal: wine and caprese salad What is on your night stand right now: my diffuser, an empty can of Polar, and one of those old alarm clocks from 30 years ago. It's rectangular, with the red numbers, and the snooze buttons on top A snapshot of an ordinary moment that brings you joy: drinking fresh coffee from my french press and sitting on the deck at my house, in the sun What are you deeply grateful for right now: to be alive It is May 2020, and over the last three months, my sphere of influence and control has been slipping out of my hands like butter. My professional goals are smoldering in a dumpster fire.  My marriage is stretched and strained and on the verge of explosive. I have given over parental rights to my children’s devices. I have periods of the day where I stare at my computer screen or out the window. I feel paralyzed and I ask myself over and over, what in the actual fuck is happening? I don’t know much these days, like if we are in the middle or close to the end of this pandemic or what next month looks like, or next year. None of us do. We don’t know what we will return to, what we will be able to take back, or what is lost forever. Because of this, many people’s mental health teeters on the brink of The Cliffs of Insanity. I am quite pleased to feel emotionally balanced despite the situation. Some close friends have asked me if my history of mental health challenges has made it harder for me to manage our current worldwide crisis. I would never have said this two years ago but in many ways, a breakdown I had in 2018 has helped me navigate the lack of control, uncertainty and anxiety I've experienced since mid-March. On the outside, what is going on now is far worse than what was going on then. Yet, back then, I was fighting an internal battle that no one saw but me. The main difference is that, in 2018, I didn’t want to live and now, I do. I have anxiety and depression. Quiet and uncertainty used to leave me feeling alone and panicked. Not being able to control my emotions, and the world around me, used to feel like a fate worse than death, until I realized that death is the fate worse than anything else. When I became very sick, and made the decision to try to get better, I drilled my anxiety and depression down to one thing: what is the worst possible thing that can happen? Answering this question really helped me because it provided me with a perspective I was once unable to see. I practices scenarios with myself: What if I perform poorly at my job? I could get fired. Ok, I am smart and hard working and I'll find another one.  What if people think I suck at my work and my professional reputation takes a hit? Ok, that could happen and I'll rebuild it. I am good at networking and building relationships. What if I am a fraud and people think I just interviewed well? Ok, that's not true but you would use your good interview skills and find a job somewhere else. In this spirit of TMI, and you feeling awkward knowing this much about me, I won't put all of my cards on the table. In short, I made a daily habit of combating my anxiety by telling myself that my worst-case scenario was something that could happen, but wouldn't last forever, and that I was strong enough to change my path and make things better.  None of the scenarios ended with my death. This exercise, combined with therapy, medication, and a lot of love, helped me move away from anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation into a new space of resilience, confidence and ultimately, happiness. Right now,there are some worst-case scenarios not only taking shape in my mind but actually playing out. Some scenarios could result in the worst fate of all fates and I could die from COVID, or even worse, I could lose someone I love to it.  The sky does seem to be falling a little bit, doesn't it? Chicken Little had quite the imagination. I came across a meme last week on social media that said, "The best use of imagination is creativity. The worst use of creativity is anxiety."  Wait? Where is this going, you ask, and why did I start this essay with a dream sequence with Brené Brown? This spring, I discovered many holes and spaces in which to dig down deep into, and get lost in, but I have tried to find creativity in those spaces. All of my energy is bound up in possibility. Since I don't know what possibilities are ahead of me, my energy is depleting. A lack of dreams is a dangerous place for me to be, so I'm allowing myself to dream, and to dream big. I read books and I listen to writers talk about what they wrote and then, I write. I dream that one day I will get to talk about my writing, too. 

I hope there is a vaccine soon and I hope it works. I hope the pandemic's damage is not so severe that we can not rebuild. I hope that others struggling with their mental health are getting the support they need. I hope those who have lost loved ones can mourn on their own time and in the ways they need. 

I  hope you can all find a place of peace and comfort and rest. And then, it's ok. You can dream.

****please, please, please listen to Unlocking Us. It is absolutely amazing, her guests are fantastic and their books are, too.