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COVID-19, or, Jesus Wept While riding a Raptor.

It is Blurdsday the 54th of April, a day like the other day which came from another day which also was, like the last, a day. I haven’t worn anything but pajamas since sometime last year, which was in March when COVID-19 was not yet a huge concern for Florida. Because. Florida.

I keep trying to pull myself away from news sources or watching the creature in an orange human suit mumble along on television with whatever erratic verbal shit-show circus that pops into his combed-over head. I’m working from home, and my concentration is shot. I am constantly and forcibly pulling myself, tearing my brain with what seems like all my mental strength back to the task at hand. At the end of work, I often feel physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.

The internet chugs on. Companies still need to sell. I work from the safety of my home daily, and so quarantining myself is not a difficult option. I also am not a fan of random humans in general. I have a tiny circle of people that I would call and talk to on the phone or video chat or drop everything to text at 2 am if they need me and I am fine with that. But seeing the distress many are going through who are not, in fact, fine with that, has my empathy working overtime. And my anger over the sheer stupidity of certain people in this country, the unfairness of it all, the lack of education and opportunities that lead to this sort of straight-up ignorance takes an energy toll as well.

On any given day I am not sure what to feel anymore. I see stories of humans going above and beyond, giving their time, their effort, their money, their hearts, and in many cases their entire lives away to try and help one another. Then I see Becky demanding a hair cut because that’s more important than, I dunno, preventing killing someone. Then I see empty animal shelters. And then I read about Texas Republican Dan Patrick said there are, “more important things than living.” As if you could fucking sell a car, a shampoo, a house, a mortgage, to a god damn dead body. I fully encourage this deep-fried turd waffle to go yell at a graveyard or freezer truck full of bodies about the economy and take notes about all the responses he gets. Oops–and there it is. I’m angry again.

Add that to the work, and the concern for people, and the exasperation over stupidity, and you have–let’s see–carry the 1, subtract the cookie, divide the ball of cat hair, fucking tired. That’s what you get. You get jesus-wept-while-riding-a-raptor-and-screeching tired.

And the thing is, that’s just me, being not-at-all affected by COVID-19. I still have work. I still have a home. I still have income thanks to my super awesome possum company. I am not on the front line. I am staying at home. I can afford (but holy shit is it expensive) grocery delivery so that marks more than 3 weeks staying home.

I think what I am saying is, we’re all crumbling here. Whether that results in desperate people desperate to believe anything (no matter how remarkably imbecilic that is) and fear drives humanity to flap about like withered balloons willy-nilly. So here’s the deal, it is pretty normal right now for you to feel:

  • Feeling like everything is surreal.
  • Feeling disoriented. This is a situation very few of us have been in before.
  • For many, a routine is what keeps them going. There are few routines now leaving many feeling adrift in the slightly warm-soup slurry of wtf is going on.
  • What many are feeling right now is one of the many feelings of grief. Grief does not hold a clear definition, and for many out there, they may not have encountered this feeling before. We may be grieving the loss of normalcy, routines, contact with friends and family, fear of economic crisis, loss of control, and a loss of safety. We know bad things are happening. We know COVID-19 is killing people. But we cannot see it and that breaks a lot of feelings of safety.
  • Anxiety is being experienced by those who have never experienced before, and, those with anxiety disorders are truly struggling.
  • Concerned for the safety of others, since quarantine orders in certain states may mean victims must be sequestered with their abusers.
  • Mind fog.
  • Mental or physical exhaustion after intense emotions.
  • Adjusting to working from home

So how do you deal with that? How do I deal with that? I…don’t know. Overwhelmed is a thing. I do know there are things you can try. Like I am trying. I keep trying, I should say, to do the best I can with what I have–my cats, my work, my addiction to Animal Crossing New Horizons (but goddamn that Nintendo switch controller drift if I plant a flower in the wrong place one more goddamn titty time I swear–) food, and internet friends.

Also Mother’s day is coming up which I had entirely forgotten about, so that’s a thing. Here is some of the shit I’ve tried when I turn full White-Becky I can’t I cannot even can not not and need a moment:

  • I logged out of all my social media for a few days.
  • I logged out of twitter on my phone for a week.
  • Indiscriminately blocked all sources in my social timelines purposefully spreading hate and misinformation (that I know of)
  • Keep focusing, best I can, in the routine of work: up at 6 am Mon-Friday, at work by 7:30, lunch at 1, work stopped by 4:30.
  • Walking away from my home PC at the end of work and completely ignoring it after 4:30
  • Forcing myself to at the very least, make sure I shower and eat and drink water. The bare minimum of self-care is better than no self-care.
  • Always always always ALWAYS take my meds.
  • Brush my damn luxury face bones in my mouth.
  • Accept I’m feeling like a hot mess more than my usual hot mess and this is just how we hot messes messily mess.
  • Repeat after me: “I have washed my hands. I (maybe) wash my groceries. I wore a mask. I wore gloves. I washed my clothes after coming home and limited contact. ” If you are working in the medical field or retail, and cannot quarantine yourself away from people, I literally have…no mantra for you. I am sorry. My mind cannot comprehend the things you face daily and the sort of hip-deep-shit you need to wade through to save lives or see lives extinguished and or give Janice her 10 gallons of pandemic milk.

The best advice I have for you is to keep trying. Shitty, I know. Keep trying to make new routines. Keep trying to wake up in the morning. Keep trying to brush your teeth and have a shower and have some coffee and pet your cat or significant other or face-time zoom skype discord them. Keep trying to reach out and be honest with one another. “I am not diddly-doddily-doing OKAY NEIGHBOR,” is okay to admit. “I am so sorry, I have no idea how to fix it,” is perfectly fine to reply back to it. “I am not sure how to cope either,” is also perfectly fine. Because nothing is currently fine and all many of us know about what they know is that they know they are not fine.

All I know is that I do not know. But I do know, I love you. You made it. You woke up today and somehow landed here to read this. No one knows exactly what you are going through and how much energy it took to face today–so I am so proud of you that you’re here.

OK, now go eat that ice cream for breakfast. I gotta go see about a raptor and a beard.

Published inPhat Life