As someone who’s been going to rallies, protests, and vigils for over 30 years and whose spent much of my adult life as an organizer and activist in one way or another, I’m just going to acknowledge that the pain runs deep.

I feel the need to acknowledge this because I fear for my fellow activists and for all those who love and believe in the goodness of humankind. It’s hard to stay strong. It’s hard to stay in love with life when so much pain in thrown in our faces every day.

Today, it brought back some memories for me. As a teen and young adult I struggled with an emotional overload, what I suppose some would call depression. But, I don’t know that’s the right term, I think it really was just more an emotional overload. I’d lost my mom, my grandma, a classmate and friend, and several others to death within a few short years. I didn’t have the tools to handle all that coming down on me and I crumbled. I couldn’t eat anymore and became dangerously thin. I started hyperventilating on a regular basis. I found myself so often crying, hitting my pillow or maybe myself, scratching at my arms and legs, anything to let out the pain. Finally, I started sneaking drinks out of my dad’s liquour cabinet and following them up with handfuls of tylenol or ibruprofen. I was trying to die because I couldn’t handle all the pain anymore.

I am thankful for two things. First, I didn’t know how to kill myself and none of my attempts worked. Secondly, I found something to hold onto. For me, that something was my nieces and nephews. I had a growing crew of little nieces and nephews back in the 80’s and 90’s. I knew the pain of losing someone, many someones. I knew how much I felt deserted by those who’d left me. I also knew how much I loved those beautiful nieces and nephews of mine. I kept myself alive by refusing to desert them, refusing to let them ever wonder why they weren’t enough to live for.

It worked. I pulled through the hardest time because of people I love. I thought about that again today because of all of the stress and pain that we’re in now and that I am feeling now. My crew of nieces and nephews has grown and now many of them have children of their own. They remain the reason that I live. Not, because I am afraid of deserting them or making them feel unloved, but because I want to be there for all the glorious events and times of their lives. I want to see them and celebrate them and their babies and grandbabies. I want to hold them in sorrow and in happiness. I look forward to someday celebrating my 100th birthday with them all gathered around.

I share all this because I know the pain of being an activist and organizer, the pain that comes with caring for others. I call on all my fellow activists and organizers and all those who care and believe in the goodness of people to be the family for each other, to hold each other tight, love each other, and keep each other alive and strong during these hard times.

I share this because I want you to know that if you are struggling with the weight of all that is in our world today that there is someone who cares about you. You can find that safety net to hold you until you are strong again.