In the beginning, which seems like yesterday and yet a lifetime ago, there was a sudden mix of fear and adrenaline. Things changed seemingly overnight. My job would become one of millions lost to the Pandemic.
For the next year I would be unemployed.
For the past year, my life has been a myriad of feelings that always come back to the same theme of being simultaneously free and trapped at the same time. A sense of overwhelming possibilities with the dread of feeling each consecutive day would end up being mostly the same.
In my particular case I would be shuttered to my home, with just enough financial boosts by the government to get by until my job returned once the pandemic was under control again.
Free to do whatever I wanted at any given time. My basic needs were small, and were going to be met thanks to the actions of the government to assist with unemployment benefits.
Trapped in the sense that no matter what I did, I would still be living in a world with a disease that had brought human movement and interaction to a near standstill.
It feels like everything and nothing.
On one hand, I can wear sweats everyday. Play videogames for 1 week, binge movies on another. I had enough time to get in great shape and work out all the time, and time to smash Oreos ad nauseam.
For the past year, my life has been a myriad of feelings that always come back to the same theme of being simultaneously free and trapped at the same time. A sense of overwhelming possibilities with the dread of feeling each consecutive day would end up being mostly the same.
In my particular case I would be shuttered to my home, with just enough financial boosts by the government to get by until my job returned once the pandemic was under control again.
Free to do whatever I wanted at any given time. My basic needs were small, and were going to be met thanks to the actions of the government to assist with unemployment benefits.
Trapped in the sense that no matter what I did, I would still be living in a world with a disease that had brought human movement and interaction to a near standstill.
It feels like everything and nothing.
On one hand, I can wear sweats everyday. Play videogames for 1 week, binge movies on another. I had enough time to get in great shape and work out all the time, and time to smash Oreos ad nauseam.
I could essentially have a "stay-cation" so long as I didn't pick up another paying job. A prospect that definitely appealed to me, a person who felt in-flux about their career anyway and wanted to explore different aspects of society and culture.
I would be answering to nobody.
I could write and research what I wanted. Pursue projects that seemed interesting, and maybe even find a different job and begin a different path.
I would be answering to nobody.
I could write and research what I wanted. Pursue projects that seemed interesting, and maybe even find a different job and begin a different path.
I could become more active and engaged in local government, volunteering time to make phone calls and write opinion pieces.
Yet still, there was just as much a sense of feeling trapped by the disease.
No longer would I be able to casually see friends and distancing from older family members became paramount.
Restaurants, movie theatres, gyms and barber shops adapted with fewer hours, reduced occupancy and some would be forced to shudder their business all together. The public space was being shrunk to almost nothing.
My days seem exhaustingly limited to screens of my cellphone and internet ready devices as well as the short walks and jogs I make myself go on.
Yet still, there was just as much a sense of feeling trapped by the disease.
No longer would I be able to casually see friends and distancing from older family members became paramount.
Restaurants, movie theatres, gyms and barber shops adapted with fewer hours, reduced occupancy and some would be forced to shudder their business all together. The public space was being shrunk to almost nothing.
My days seem exhaustingly limited to screens of my cellphone and internet ready devices as well as the short walks and jogs I make myself go on.
While I've taken advantage of the time in some respects, I feel slightly haunted by the time that I haven't.
I haven't written as much as I feel I should have.
It feels like at this point, something more should have changed.
But then, like a defense mechanism, my brain starts to recognize this spiral, these negative and pessimistic thoughts, and starts to act and do the behavior I find positive again.
Back to the computer to write, even if it's just for 15 minutes again until you can find that strike and that stride. Back to a work-out. Back to a phone-call or meeting-up with family. Back to meal prepping, or volunteering.
But then, like a defense mechanism, my brain starts to recognize this spiral, these negative and pessimistic thoughts, and starts to act and do the behavior I find positive again.
Back to the computer to write, even if it's just for 15 minutes again until you can find that strike and that stride. Back to a work-out. Back to a phone-call or meeting-up with family. Back to meal prepping, or volunteering.
This has been the cycle for roughly a year.
That is all about to change.
I am now two weeks out from my second dose of the Pfizer vaccine. My family is also vaccinated. My old job will be coming back in May. The world seems to be moving back towards what it was.
Structured. Balanced. With time seemingly flowing forward again with the intention of a destination.
I used to think that I abhorred that structure. That I preferred the ability to do whatever I liked, whenever I liked.
Time is often compared to a river in metaphors. Over the past year, it felt like the river emptied out into a Covid-19 basin.
Now it is time to pick up the oars and paddle down another river.
