Lately I've been thinking a lot about why I've been so silent. It just sort of happened that all of the sudden I couldn't get any inclination to blog, to write, to do any sort of productive thought processing. When I started working in the clinic I thought that I'd have a lot of things to jot down, specifically about my education in college in regards to women's health versus working in the middle of it. Certainly I didn't know exactly what to expect when I started my job, and now I've learned that I can't have any expectation as to what any day is going to be like. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've come across some shocking and difficult situations and I'm trying to learn how to deal with it. In the past I was able to write about it, but right now it's too soon.
And it feels stupid to write it, but I'm going to anyway. I just had no idea. Studying and learning about domestic violence in college and job training is completely different from when you actually find yourself taking the blood pressure of a woman who lies to you about the bruises on her body.
One of the best things about feminism for me has always been that it has given me a sense of hope. It has always been a revolution to me. My job and feminism intertwine and I relish that. Yet I am amazed at how far I've come down to where I only feel and notice burden--the weight of it in the lives of the women I meet, and my own that I carry with me.