Last week, COVID beat me down. Despite the (fleeting) joy of being fully vaccinated for over a month, the never-ending monotony, the frustration with those around me disregarding social distancing protocols and masking, and the aggravation I was feeling towards everyone being "over" COVID was a perfect combination to render me incapable of doing much of anything. For multiple days, I wasn't able to attend to my work, school, or internship duties. I was a puddle - an emotional wreck. Only instead of the full spectrum of emotions, I was stuck somewhere between "hollowed out", "mind-numbingly sad", and "furious" at all times. Instead of leaning into one of the most intense and painful depressive episodes I've ever experienced, I forced myself to move, to do things, to socializing, to exercise, or just to read a book outdoors in the sun. There's a lot of research about how impactful "doing" can be during a period of depression - how the momentum helps to "unstick" individuals who are feeling glued in a dark, hollow, sad place. Even as an aspiring therapist in a MSW program, I scoffed at the notions. Who, me? Do things to feel better when all I want to do is cry on the sofa and sleep all day? Lo and behold, it worked. Not all at once. But little by little, I could feel the full spectrum of emotions seeping back in. During a RuPaul's Drag Race themed Peloton ride, I felt a little joy and laughter. During a bubble bath, I focused on the bodily sensations I was experiencing. There was comfort, again. Over the weekend, my partner and I took our new kayak out for its maiden voyage. I was hesitant, but the giddiness came back. This never-ending pandemic isn't over, but maybe the worst is. Or maybe our resiliency as human beings will just never cease to kick in when it's most needed.
May 4, 2021
My boss tested positive. I am so glad that I insisted when we were in the office, he sat in his office with the door shut and everything has spoken was over the phone. I am glad that I called out that he was coughing. I am glad that he decided to stay home the next day. I am glad that I decided I need to work from home. And so it has been 9 days since I was even in the same building as him. But that is still scary. It was so close. He didn't feel ill. He thought I was being sensitive but was ok with that. I don't know what I would have done if it was me --- I worry for my husband, and even more so for my father in law. The law here in the UK that won't give the second dose of the Pfizer until 12 weeks is still making me mad. What makes me even angrier is that some GP's were allowed to take it in their discretion to give it or not, and my father in law's decided they were ok with this new rule. I do think that it is immoral to change a dose on people without knowing the side effects. I think it is immoral to change the dose on people after they agree to the original plan, and not give them a say. They are doing this in an immoral and unethical way - and I feel helpless in creating a change. I will write to my MP. I hope he will write to him. I want to call out to all those in the UK to write to their MPs to stop this process. And then I think about New Jersey (USA), where my 96-year-old grandmother can't get an appointment for a vaccine. Where my 65-year-old mother, who is a teacher can't get a vaccine, and her words are 'they changed the system so smokers get a vaccine before teachers' and teachers have to be in the classroom; have to go to work; have to interact with others. My father who is also 65, who has many comorbidities also can't get one. So I sit here worrying about myself, my family, my loved ones, the world. And then I am thankful and recognize my privilege. I have a job. I can work from home. I get my groceries delivered to my house.
January 21, 2021