What Keeps Me Going

A friend asked the other day, on Facebook, what keeps you going, in these times of strife and ugly and mean? In this volatile time of the upcoming US election, and all the vitriol being slung from all directions?

This was my answer:

What I learned from being in recovery so long, is it's really only one day at a time, even for y'all not in recovery. 

I have a date tonight and it's my first one in like... forever. Especially since my last several relationships imploded from major, major dysfunction. 

I have hope, but I'm terrified, as I have precious little faith in my ability to pick someone not insane. And the older I get, the more baggage there is, so that's hard.
As for the world... maybe it IS Tower Time, who knows. People had faith that Rome's empire would last. And as we all know who made it to here, it tragically didn't. Or maybe not so tragically, unless you were from Rome.

My kid. My kid keeps me going. He's offensive as all hell, on purpose, but inside he has an unshakeable goodness to him and a faith in propagating the species (NOT yet, thank all the gods) and in love and in hope and in a faith that somehow, the world will be there for him when he grows up.
I keep going and going and being well and being good to people and putting one foot in front of the other, and sharing and smiling and holding doors for people.
I work elderly in-home care because I love old people. I love kids and babies and I just love and love and love, even when I have no hope and no faith, I keep on lovin'.