[CW: COVID, mental health, depression, anxiety]
Last spring, we watched COVID coming. First it was very far away, until suddenly it wasn’t anymore. First handwashing was enough, then it wasn’t and everyone was sent home (for certain values of “everyone”). Then it was a waiting game to see how bad the news would get here.
Back then, I just…froze. (I’m a natural worrier anyway. I have a history of depression; I haven’t been diagnosed with anxiety, but I wouldn’t be surprised either.) My brain heard “pandemic” and went into hindbrain survival mode. Never mind that I’m not a health care worker, nor a front line worker, nor a hospitality worker watching my job or business evaporate. Never mind that I didn’t have any loved ones in long-term care. (I do have loved ones who are vulnerable for other reasons, though.) Never mind that I didn’t know anyone who died of it (until this year, but that’s another story).
I’ll be honest: I spent more than a month barely functioning. Eventually I called my doctor and we tweaked some stuff and then I could function again, but it still wasn’t pretty. I turned into a workaholic instead (partly because my job got super busy right at the same time). I did manage to stay connected with friends online–multiple ongoing text chats, Zoom watch parties, Zoom yoga. Sometimes I didn’t feel like talking, but they understood.
My mental health has been improving, mostly. But physically I became a hermit (to be fair, that’s my natural state anyway). I’ve been walking in my neighbourhood regularly, but running errands, going into stores, just made me too anxious. I’ve switched entirely to online ordering; I’ve barely seen anyone in person or gone anywhere, even last summer when local case counts were low.
Now…restaurant patios are finally open. Hair salons just opened last week. And as of this Friday I will be two weeks past my second shot. (Canada’s rollout has been very slow because we don’t have any vaccine manufacturing capacity of our own.) I’ll still be careful and wear a mask when I can’t distance, but…it will be time to start tiptoeing back into the world again.
I’ll be honest–it’s a scary thought.
I’m starting small. A couple of friends came over for a short backyard hangout. In a few days I will hug another friend (who lives not far away, walks almost right past my house most days, and has been very patient with my pandemic anxiety that has been insisting that even walking together isn’t safe). I’ve started booking appointments for non-urgent health care things.
In a few weeks I have a staycation booked, during which I will venture into more far-flung parts of the city than I have since March 2020 (which won’t be hard) and visit a coffee shop patio or two. Later this summer or fall I will probably see family members who live in another province. One day there will be contra dancing again and we will all have to deal with the strangeness of dancing together (after we finish hugging each other and crying).
(We won’t talk about variants, but…I’m pretty sure the route out of the pandemic won’t be a straight line. Notice how I’m not saying “post-pandemic” yet.)
Right now, it’s hard to imagine being comfortable with normal things again, let alone travel and all that. Some normal things I don’t want to become comfortable with again. (See last month’s post about my pandemic wardrobe, and in other news I’ve become a lot more intentional with my purchasing power in general, not just with clothing. Also, I’m a highly sensitive introvert and would love to keep working from home forever.)
But it’s time to start stepping back into the world, re-learning how to be in the world, finding out how I relate to it now.
My hand is on the doorknob. I’m taking deep breaths. Here I go.
Hugs. It’s like that old joke…it’s only paranoia if they aren’t really out to get you. Like you, the pandemic caused issues for me. Some were already there and got worse, others newly introduced. And it hasn’t been the best year for other reasons.
I found a strange peace in returning to a more public life, though. I had other, more important, things to focus on, so going out to stores and eating in restaurants (even inside, though at isolated seating with masked (and often vaccinated) staff). I’m still nervous about what’s to come. We are far from post pandemic. But it’s nice to see the world waking up (carefully) from this nightmare.
I hope your staycation gives you that safe space to stretch your boundaries once again. You’re far from alone in this.
Thank you, Margaret! It’s comforting to know that others are feeling the same, although I’m sorry to hear you’ve had a tough year even beyond the reasons we’re all dealing with. Here’s hoping that the second half of the year gets better on all counts.
In many ways, the pandemic may have introduced us to the idea that death is imminent. That we are way more vulnerable than we acknowledge. Now that the masks are down and we’re in community again, I got a stomach bug and a fever for three days. I can’t remember the last time I had that. But if that’s the price for community, I’ll pay it. Because we are not meant to be alone! When we are listened too, the health benefits of that are what heals us. Yes, I did have to double my anxiety medication during but I am holding. Anxiety and depression btw are two sides to the same coin. We can only do so much until we can ask ourselves if we can do more? I hope you enjoy your out and about time!
Thank you, Shalagh, for your thoughtful words!
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