
How I Learned to Love Quarantine
How fast things can change in a week.
I sometimes think this when I look at the world I lived in and how I felt about it a week ago compared to now. Like many others, I’m in a self-imposed quarantine of sorts with, thankfully, my beloved Brian by my side. To say I’m grateful for his presence would be the understatement of all time.
It’s so easy to let my anxiety take over (which it has definitely threatened to do) because of how powerless the situation around me makes me feel. To the vast majority of the human population, the unknown is a colossal dick. So it’s only natural we’d flip out at what’s happening now.
I’ve definitely experienced grief. Right now, I grieve for the world around me, I grieve for the people who don’t get the luxury of staying home because we need them, I grieve for my friends who are suddenly finding themselves in a position of financial hardship, I grieve because I can’t see my elderly parents back home in Texas…the list goes on. Grief looks different for lots of people, so I thought I’d share my journey and where it’s led me to now.
I was initially incredulous at the thought of a pandemic causing this much upheaval. It was one of many who was guilty of feeling like it wouldn’t affect us the way it did. When it finally started creeping into my way of life, I was angry. Angry at the virus, angry at the spreaders, angry at the hoarders…you get the idea.
Then came the “if onlys”. “If only we’d taken this seriously sooner”, “If only our healthcare system was better equipped”, “If only we had a leader who knew what he was doing.” There are so many fucking if onlys. Guys, don’t think about them too much, or you’ll never get out of that rabbit hole, FYI.
Several days ago, I experienced my first bout of real depression. I was depressed at the thought of watching our retirement savings dwindle, the thought of my parents possibly becoming infected, the healthcare system finally collapsing, the thought of more and more people succumbing to the virus…holy shit, it was intense at times. But to my surprise, it didn’t last long at all.
It’s hard not to feel an impending sense of doom when you read the news or even go on social media, because all anyone can talk about is the virus, how it’s affecting everything, and how the world will basically shit on itself if we do nothing. But as the crisis deepened, I started to see signs…signs of hope, unity and good will.
“Innovation is born out of necessity.” I love that quote. And I am seeing proof of it everywhere I look. People are using their creativity and knowledge to come up with ways to help or enrich the lives of others. From people trying to make masks for healthcare workers to virtual concerts, classes and happy hours, our humanity is peeking like a slit out of our collective skirt of self-absorbance.
Earlier this week, a neighbor brought me kidney beans and canned tomatoes out of kindness, because every place I’d tried was sold out, and all I wanted was to make a pot of chili. Another friend messaged me today to see if we needed any toilet paper because he’d found some on his way home. I’m seeing communities come together to support their bars, restaurants, and other local businesses that have seen their revenue streams cut. And it’s giving me hope.
We are capable of so much good. We really are. I have a pretty fair amount of cynicism in me, but I’d like to believe that we’ll find ways to lift each other up during this time of extreme sacrifice and strife. Yes, even in spite of how shitty we humans are sometimes.
When I woke up yesterday, I looked out my window and saw a little hummingbird flitting around our trees, pausing here and there. I was completely mesmerized by it. It was like time stopped at that moment. When it flew away, I finally snapped out of my daze.
And it really hit me – when we’re finally able to step outside our homes and slowly rebuild ourselves and our communities, I hope our overall feeling is similar to the one I felt at that moment. A feeling of wonder, hope, and renewed gratitude for the little things that pass us by every day without us noticing much. A heightened appreciation for the things and people we take for granted and think we’ll have tomorrow, next week or next year.
I’ve entered the last stage of my grief and accepted what is happening now – that we need to do the right thing so we can fight back against this virus. So we can all go hug our loved ones again, even tighter than before.
How fast things can change in a week. Stay hopeful, stay safe, and for the love of all things, please stay the fuck home.