The Dangers in Short-Sighted Views

Day 19 of being homebound

I make light of our circumstances to try and normalize my days, but that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate the gravity of the situation. This invisible threat is downright terrifying on so many levels. Aside from the possibility of taking ill with it myself – which is not my main concern – the idea that on the rare occasion I leave the house for the grocery store I could become an unwitting carrier is beyond difficult to accept. It boggles my mind that not everyone feels this way.

Twenty-five years ago, I was pregnant with my oldest son. It wasn't planned and I spent the first trimester crying my eyes out. The moment I felt the first flutter of movement, something inside me flipped. I was still scared of the unknown changes that would accompany my child's entrance into this world, but everything I did from that moment forward was anchored in protecting him. I watched what I ate and what I drank, where I went and what I did. The life growing inside of me depended on my awareness and responsible behavior, as it did my love and nurturing. When he was finally welcomed into this world, his entrance was marred with health concerns. He was taken swiftly to another hospital with a neonatal unit, and I had to stay where I was. In an instant, I could no longer protect my child – his care and safety now in the hands of medical staff in another facility just over a mile away.

Fear bubbled to the surface and I quickly wondered if my son's health condition was due to something I had done or hadn't done while pregnant. Had I eaten the wrong things, did that fall down the stairs affect him after all, or was my body somehow inhospitable post-rape? The number of questions that flooded my head was dizzying, and once my son was released from the NICU, I was almost paralyzed with how to care for him. What if I did something wrong? What if someone else did something wrong when they held or watched him? Being a mother to this tiny little being with all his fingers and toes was not as I had imagined. It was filled with second-guessing, apprehension and all-out fear that I was not going to be able to keep him safe.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, I found the joy in watching this little human grow. My heart ached to burst with how much I loved him. I eventually relaxed and allowed him to fall without scooping him up instantly, I gave him the freedom to explore his surroundings even though I wanted to bubble wrap everything in sight. He bumped his head countless times, fell flat on his face when learning to crawl and then walk, and he'd cry for a bit, but I didn't prematurely console him. When he was old enough to carry on conversations, he asserted his independence. This threw me into another cycle of panic. I knew he needed to figure things out on his own, but watching your child fail, get frustrated or banged up as they learn is one of the hardest things to stand by and do.

When my second son came into the world, my oldest declared he was too big for nearly everything I had come to love with him. Cuddle time was for babies and he wanted to do everything himself. There are no truly adequate words to describe the pull between the infant who needed me for everything and the nearly four-year-old who wanted total independence. As the years past and the boys got older, my instinct to protect and comfort them never left. When they'd gotten into an argument with a friend, injured themselves on the field playing sports, had their hearts broken by their first girlfriends, my heart ached with them. The desire to pull them into an embrace and hold them safe from it all forever was powerful and difficult to resist. The bigger they got, the more I had to face the fact that I couldn't protect them from life. I could give them as many tools to guide them as possible, but I would not be able to shield them the way I had when they were babies.


They've become adults and all the pride I have in who they are aside, I still feel that instinctual pull to cover them and deflect life's bumps and tumbles. I feel no less yearning to take their pain and disappointment away than I did when they were frustrated toddlers falling down every few steps. If anything, the intense need to protect them when I was carrying them during those pregnancies is far greater after 2+ years. They are my children no matter how old they get or how independent of me they become.





I feel similarly to my siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. Their importance in my life is always synonymous with their well-being and safety, because if they are at risk, then their role in my life is at risk. I make every conscious effort to consider my actions–my choices and how they affect those around me. Consideration, awareness, the ability to recognize that even if I don't know someone, the likelihood is there are people in their life that feel as I do about my sons, my family, and my friends. Every single life matters. I don't have to agree with a person or even like them to understand that they have a right to live the best life possible.


I understand that the irresponsible choices I have made had effects that stretched beyond my own consequences. While few of us are able to get through life without inadvertently affecting those around us in a negative way, we all have the ability to learn from those mistakes and poor choices. What good is having the freedom to do something if what you choose to do infringes on the rights of others, leaving them bearing the weight of consequence they did not deserve to pay?

I stay home in this time of uncertainty because every person out there is someone's family, someone's treasured friend. Exercising my freedom to move about the world, come and go as I please and continue to do whatever I want would be selfish and irresponsible in this crisis. I have no desire to unwittingly become a vehicle for a virus that could end someone's life, simply because this is 'a free country.' It completely blows my mind that anyone would resist the urge to act in the interest of the many when it counts the most. Whether people choose to see it or not, we are all in this together. Our actions and inactions affect others, and in ways that are unconscionable. It doesn't matter that you might not believe the situation is as bad as it is, what matters is that it's better to over-prepare and overreact than it is to wonder if we did everything we could have later on.

The act of choosing to take one for the team and stay the fuck home right now is not difficult. Sure, it's inconvenient, it's boring and even intolerable at times, but it's a simple act that has widespread benefit. Consider the people in your life. You don't have to be a parent to identify with fierce bonds that evoke protection and a caring instinct. You don't have to know someone who is COVID-19 positive to accept that this virus is ravaging the lives of hundreds of thousands. You and those you know do not the gauge of legitimacy and it's small-minded and egocentric to think that because you aren't directly affected that the virus is bullshit or the concoction of some political ploy. Just because a person has never traveled to and knows no one who has ever traveled to Antarctica doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Get your heads out of the sand and accept that there is more to the world than your narrow view. Stay home, wash your hands and accept that it will take all of us to do our parts to get through this pandemic if we hold any hope of recovering as a society and as the human race when it is finally over.

 

Being Homebound Isn't The End of The World, Even If It Feels Like It

Day 18 of Self-Isolation 2020:

What do you do when you're most proficient at finding ways to avoid doing things you know you should be doing? I've spent some serious time avoiding things that are productive or fooling myself into thinking I'm trying to be efficient by analyzing the fuck out of everything. Ultimately, I'm wasting valuable time and letting some of the best writing material pass me by - all because I frequently find myself paralyzed from taking the right kind of action.

The same could be said for my dating life. I'm easy-going enough and appreciate artistic souls, but all too often I find myself knee-deep in situations that aren't conducive to the path I'm on. Of course, being the person I am, much rationalizing and compromise is made to make a true faith effort, without acknowledging the simple truth that a square peg will not fit in a round hole. It doesn't matter how much I give, do or want something to pan out, at the end of the day, the fact that I'm the only one putting in any kind of effort should be all the evidence necessary to pack it up and move on.

In this madness of pandemic protocol, much of what I do or do to avoid doing actual things is without a doubt the biggest disservice to my life and my goals. The reality is that being homebound with no clear end date for someone who excels at procrastination like I do, is a recipe for years of regret. I know that I could be making far better use of my time than binge-watching mindless television series, baking copious amounts of snack foods than necessary for two people, and spending hours on social media without any true purpose, yet here I am, 18 days into self-quarantine and what exactly do I have to show for it?

Now, part of this reluctance to get real is based in the disbelief that we are facing the type of situation that we are - I mean, who really wants to admit that life as we know it has once again changed drastically, but post 9/11, the change will be far more lengthy in its devastation economically, socially and historically. We are living through something that has only hinted at the level of seriousness because honestly, there are few of us who could willingly comprehend the gravity of all this pandemic will annihilate of life as we know it.

So, instead of delving deeper into writing my book, I distract myself with all manner of import, desperately clinging to the illusion that I can maintain my path and minimize the level of fucked beyond belief that I will find myself when this all starts to even out again. It's laughable that there's even the thought of leveling off or evening out. Whether it's under 5% of the world's population that is met by death when all is said and done or not, that's a fucking insane number of people to be taken from the world and anyone who is even half-way aware of that will have a difficult time getting 'back to normal.'

More than half of the people I am friends with on social media have resorted to drinking far more than they likely did before COVID-19 became a pandemic and forced us into isolation to prevent the spread - and I understand far more than I'd like to admit just why that is. Facing the reality that life is undergoing a monumental upheaval is beyond difficult for those who are what I'd consider well-adjusted, so for the rest of the population who were barely hanging in there or who had reached 'expert' level in avoidance of the truth, this situation has shined a spotlight on Americans' inability to keep calm and move on. Granted, there's a bit of fun and humor in how we are devolving, if you don't look too closely or for too long.

That there is an altogether too large section of the population who value their 'freedoms' over the safety, health, and lives of others isn't news. Frankly, I'm disgusted at the lengths people are going to just to flaunt how little regard they have for their fellow Americans. This alone has made it challenging on a daily basis to find the silver lining before my head hits the pillow at night. Challenging, but not impossible. Despite all the negativity and the grim outlook in the coming weeks, finding the smallest nuggets of positive energy has become my main objective. I'd be crumbling into a big, waling heap on the floor if I weren't redirecting my thoughts and embracing what I am grateful for in my life.

It isn't easy, and often times it is just barely enough to pull me away from the edge of the downward spiral of pessimism. The thing is, I won't stop. Even getting one step ahead of the madness is progress and it means I've made it through another day relatively unscathed. I may not be focusing on the things I want to be doing or I think I should be doing, but clearly, my mind is fixed on keeping itself as healthy and capable of seeing the good around me. Just like extreme fatigue can force us to get much-needed rest for our health and well-being, spending your days staying ahead of the depressing and paralyzing realities dawning is no small feat and should not be seen as failure or weakness.

This is my perspective. Whatever you're doing right now to stay ahead of the panic, depression, anxiety, fear, etc, that isn't causing your body, mind, soul or anyone else's harm, keep doing it. You might be treading water, but that means your head is still above water and you aren't drowning. My emotions and thoughts right now vacillate between 'I've got this' and 'we are all fucked.' The important thing is that I manage to pull myself out of the depths of dread by employing a few different techniques. The newest of these is something I learned from Mel Robbins (she's freaking brilliant). I won't even begin to do it justice, but the idea is to interrupt your thought process by consciously counting backward from 5, out loud. I was skeptical, but I find myself using this regularly, whether it's to interrupt that inner hampster wheel or I need to get serious about tackling a task I've been procrastinating around. Other similar things are getting up from wherever I'm sitting and walking into another room. I would venture a guess that it's engaging a similar disrupter in my brain. I've also gotten out in the fresh air and gone for a short walk, cranked loud, heavy music for a song or two, or allowed someone else's interruption of my time pulling me out of the cycle. The key is finding what works for you AND having the discipline to use it.

This afternoon, as I sat down to write, I was antsy and struggling to sit still long enough to get anything at all out on the screen. My roommate can be quite verbose and despite my initial internal eye roll when he started a conversation with me, I visualized that countdown from 5 to 1 and relaxed into being his captive audience. By the end of the conversation, I was able to turn my attention to my laptop screen and started typing. It isn't always easy, but I cannot deny the real implications of resisting something you don't want to do - it always becomes far more unbearable and further roots your mindset in negativity. I don't always succeed, but more often than not, I manage to squash a bad mood or unproductive train of thought, and that's really all that matters. That and encouraging my inner belief that I can succeed, even if it's just in finding the best part of the day and celebrating it in some small way. Life may look like a shit sandwich right now, but even if everything is falling down around you, there is always something good worth your focus and energy.

Has It Been Two Weeks Already?

Resurrecting the old blog during this time of uncertain and bizarre reality. I'd like to be focused on writing something else. Anything else, to be honest. The problem is, this is so fresh, so new and so uncharted I cannot begin to push my thoughts and emotions aside. I go through an ever growing array of feelings within any given hour – from positive to pensive and from fearful to unaffected. This pandemic has perimenopause looking like a toddler's temper tantrum.

People have long been disturbed, a bit touched, off-balance and otherwise, cuckoo, but on March 12, 2020 all bets were clearly off. News of the pandemic caused the inexplicable onset of hoarding of toilet paper. For a virus that has intestinal issues listed as 'rare,' this boggles the mind. That is, until you realize that the toilet paper shortage – no, the absolute scarcity of it – is more likely the result of opportunistic assholes who would sooner make money than be courteous and thoughtful of their fellow Americans. Cleaning agents like Lysol, Clorox and basically anything with bleach or ammonia have also been bought in mass quantity, leaving little more than dust on the store shelves once designated to display them. It's like some unfinished plot line is a far-fetched movie.

The news is conflicting, though that has probably withstood the chaos and is a standout of the now old norm. I try to refrain from watching much of it, sticking to a select, short list of trusted and respectable news outlets. I learned valuable lessons in the days and weeks following 9/11 about preserving my sanity and maintaining independent thought. I like to think that I'm a rational, compassionate and somewhat intelligent person, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. Without a doubt, I have strong opinions about what is happening, and how our government and we as a people are responding to this situation, but it isn't worth the added turmoil and unrest to air them on a continual basis, particularly via social media. I choose to disengage when confronted with opinions of others that are dressed in instant defensiveness, especially when the opinions shared are clearly a regurgitation of what I view as disreputable sources. It isn't worth my energy and I certainly don't have the space to let negative energy in these days. My primary effort is based in keeping that shit as far from me as possible. Choosing to embrace positive things is not always easy, in fact, it rarely is, but it is a far better way to live life.

When things go wrong, the pull to give in and give up can almost be a relief. It's not often our thoughts continue to envision worst case scenarios when we are mired in sadness, disappointment, hurt or grief. Those emotions consume us and are oddly almost comfortable, as though we've landed in a spot that's secure, even in all the uncertainty, fear and devastation. Joy and feeling good, however, are where most of us are all too aware how far the fall is from feeling great. Even if we push the second thoughts or the what ifs aside, the knowledge that 'this too shall end' is always waiting to present us with its 'I told you so's.' Giving in is almost certainly always easier than digging in and pushing forward. Easier isn't better and more than not lacks substance or meaning.

So in this new normal, I'm once again recognizing the importance of continuing to find the silver lining in each day, each situation and anytime I become aware that the weight of worry is pulling away from the good things that still exist and matter around me. I've been home for 14 days now, adjusting little by little whenever it's clear I need to redirect my energy. Hoping for the best outcome, but prepared to face the unimaginable with all of me trained to see the benefit and promise, while at the same time acknowledging the hardships and sadness that is sure to come.