COVID-19: Living in Limbo
03 Apr 2020Introduction
We’re living in an unprecedented situation. I often bottle my feelings up when it comes to things like this, especially because others are
at greater risk than I am, but hopefully getting some of my thoughts down will serve as a sort of catharsis.
The transition the past few weeks has been difficult. My previous routine ceased to exist, so I had to create a new one and ensure that I stick to it. Swirling around it all is an impending sense of doom that gnaws at me every day.
When did time stop existing?
March passed by in a blur, the way city lights fly past when you drive at night in the rain. For some reason, this pandemic took on an unreal quality for me. I’d jolt up every day hazy, in what felt like a false awakening. At some point during the month, I made the choice to move out of my dorm, shoving the bare necessities into a plastic bag so I could lock down at my boyfriend’s house. I don’t even want to think about how I should have just moved all of my stuff out of the dorm then, since I probably won’t get a refund now that I’m going to wait until later in the semester to move. It just seems too dangerous right now.
That was another hard thing—figuring out where to shelter in place. My parents are separated, and I’m close with my boyfriend’s family, so I had options. It felt like a cruel choice to “abandon” my mom’s family and my dad’s. It felt selfish. But I think this is a time in which we are entitled to selfishness, in the sense that we make whatever choice will make us feel safest. I am glad that I made the choice that I did.
Granted, I’ve had to make a lot of changes. I’m a creature of habit; I enjoyed my old routine of walking to class at the same time every day, eating the same thing for lunch, seeing the same people. I miss structure. I’m prone to procrastination, so I find myself using the calendar tool religiously to make sure I keep up with assignments. I often lapse, spending some days immersed in a hobby doing almost nothing at all. These days inside have that hazy, dreamlike quality that fool you into thinking you have all the time in the world.
That being said, these past few weeks have passed mostly without incident, save for some minor health scares (for any of us, even the tiniest cough evokes suspicion). It’s been comforting and even fun to be here at my boyfriend’s house. It feels a bit like summer break (albeit bleaker), where the days pick up speed as more pass. They bring us forward whether we want to go or not. For this I am grateful. If given the chance, I would shelter in this moment, the here and now, because I know things must get worse before they get better. But none of the days pass without emotional turmoil.
So one hypochondriac and one deadly pandemic walk into a bar…
I tend to exaggerate everything about my health. If my side hurts, my kidneys must be shutting down. If I have chest tightness, I must have pneumonia which will turn fatal and kill me. It feels like a terrible thing to admit when there are people dying all over the world. Here I am, healthy, normal, sitting on a comfortable bed sweating over the fact that I must have some life threatening disease because I had a slight pain in my stomach. It’s that fleeting dread that makes the days so much grayer.
What’s worse than worrying about myself is worrying about my family. About the very young and the very old whom I love. My grandmother is immune compromised, and this terrifies me. But I have to let that terror go. The best I can do is remember that we are all taking extreme precaution and that is the best protection we have.
For now, we are on lockdown at my boyfriend’s house. It’s been this way for a few weeks. Although I don’t feel anywhere close to completely safe, it’s the best that I can feel in light of the situation. The nagging fear persists, but luckily hope does, too.
And now for the corny part
As my eternally bright grandmother might say, look on the bright side. No matter how desolate this time might seem, I try to take things one day at a time. There are many new things this experience is teaching me, many old things it is reuniting me with.
I’m not an outdoorsy person. I actually enjoy being cooped up (though I strongly doubt I’ll be so fond of it once this whole thing is over) and spend a lot of my time indoors. I like to run, but I usually run on the treadmill. This has changed all of that. My boyfriend’s mom dragged us homebodies out into the bright sunlight one day and that was a feeling like no other. This experience is giving me a new appreciation for the fresh, crisp air that you can only get on a long walk in the evening, with birds chirping around you and a slight breeze in your hair. What a world it is that we inhabit.
I mentioned this earlier, but I’ve somehow recovered more time than I ever knew I had. Me-time feels great after neglecting myself for so long. I have time to read books for leisure for the first time in years. I have time to draw, to write. (My latest doodle is pictured to the right.) That feels amazing.
I have more time for others now, too. I FaceTime my grandmother regularly. It’s the most I’ve talked to her in weeks. Although it is scary to think about how vulnerable she is, I’m so grateful this opened my eyes to the limited time I have left with her. I can use this wealth of time I seem to have now for not just myself, but my family.