Did Women Really Get Sent to a Red Tent To Bleed?

Some of my friends are starting to write for Substack. Substack is similar to Vocal I believe except that when you subscribe to someone their written pieces are sent to your email. This made me feel stressed because the last thing I need is more emails.

I thought about how taking a day off work leaves me so busy cleaning up and running errands that I wonder how I hold a day job.

How upon awakening most of us are hitting the ground at a deficit from the day previous and when we open our phones see memes about being more productive ( I am multi-tasking by looking at my phone on the toilet) isn’t that productivity?

I think of Will Ferrell in the Elf Movie and sometimes feel much like a square peg (or cog) in a round hole. I want to tell the world to slow down while I take another ashwagandha or adrenal support supplement.

I think of the ladies way back when who were sent to the red tent to bleed. I think, send me! I am all yours. A week off to rest my maxi pad and have quiet? Could I chat with the other ladies? Would I have a best friend there? Is our husband taking care of the kids? I’ve read that women found encouragement there from other women, sisters, and mothers. Sign me up!

Life was so much more predictable back then. If women were out weaving baskets and gardening with their village and the men were out hunting or fishing (like Little House on the Prairie Days) they weren’t hearing a ping from their devices or asking Alexa to play hip-hop. They were just left to do their day’s work and then they could turn in without technological distractions.

Don’t get me wrong technology makes life easier in a lot of ways. I don’t think I could drive without map help nowadays, but in a lot of ways, I feel hypnotized and distracted. The world is literally at our fingertips and sometimes I miss just turning on the old boob tube and flipping through the TV guide to see what was on.

I feel bombarded by socials and I don’t even have any real friends. Maybe that’s why it feels like a lot of fluff with a lack of real connection. It feels like someone is always trying to sell me the next hot ticket and it’s exhausting.

I also recently heard the term “Pandemic Fatigue” in which our bodies are in a high state of alert at all times. We are checking ourselves for symptoms and worrying about bringing it home to our families and children. It’s the truth, our bodies are in overdrive.

And then we are told we should eat healthier, exercise, and start writing a book.

I actually do eat pretty healthy, exercise, and wrote a book during this fricken pandemic, but I still feel guilty and like I should be doing more. It’s insane. No, we should not be doing more. We should be managing our own stress levels and loving our damn selves. We should be hugging our people and staying brave in the face of this adversity. That, my friends, takes almost everything I have left.

We should be putting our best foot forward as far as taking care of our mental, spiritual, physical, and emotional health. We should be giving ourselves warm hugs and lots of snuggles.

I am a sober person who doesn’t even drink coffee. I am finding little solace or reprieve from the madness of this life and so here I write. Writing helps me to find clarity and if someone else relates then I feel a little less crazy in between my ears.

I hope by sharing my truths others will feel safe to do the same. Many of us in the recovery community are out here flailing. Many people’s addictions have or will come to a head. We are being shaken awake it seems, but sometimes it all feels like too much and maybe that’s how it feels before a big breakthrough. I will just sit here expecting a miracle and look back on this time as a distant memory hoping that I soaked in as much joy as I could throughout the uncertainty.