I woke up to the sound of the rain. I didn’t see the need to get up early and start my day but instead I stayed in bed reflecting on what I’ve done so far since the lockdown. It’s surreal to think that a pandemic has frightened the whole world, causing every country to close down its borders. This only exists in the movies, not in real life.
I grabbed my phone to check Facebook notifications. There were mixed feelings about how the president has handled the situation. My son’s donor from Germany sent me a link, expressing her concern about Trump’s behavior, underestimating the seriousness of COVID-19. I’ve been furious lately, not only because of the government’s ineptitude, but the implications of this virus in our personal lives. We were just starting to get our lives together and hoping to begin this year with a little bit of normalcy. Unfortunately, life is once again put on hold.
Sounds familiar. It’s the story of my life: I take one step forward, three steps back.
The other day, I had a few glasses of wine and in my tipsy state, I wrote a long ass post on Facebook. Thanks to this pandemic, my family is back to prison again. I thought we were over it, assuming 2020 was going to be our year—the year we planned to do everything we’ve been deprived of over the years: travel the world, eat out, and live life free of fear. You see, we’ve been practicing this social distancing bullshit that everyone is just now learning to do. We’ve been washing and sanitizing our hands, wearing masks in public where it’s needed, wiping down surfaces, etc. That was our world for the past ten years! We didn’t panic buying hand sanitizers or masks or gloves because we’ve been well-equipped way before the world hoarded them. For years, we were afraid to go out during flu season for the possibility of catching it. Or getting exposed to any type of virus or germs. And since my son has been well, we decided to finally free ourselves from our two prisoners-—cancer and fear. Then, enter coronavirus…..this bad boy joined the ranks and ruined it again for us.
Back to my long ass post on Facebook—it was written with so much anger expressing all of my frustrations. I cursed at the world and threw all the F-bombs like it’s going out of style. I was furious but I knew after writing it and hitting post, I would feel guilty after. But I did it anyway. Oh what the heck, I thought, I’m tipsy and I’ll just delete it when I wake up in the morning. I didn’t expect the response it got. I could no longer delete the post. The next day, my mom called and demanded I shouldn’t use that kind of language on Facebook. It’s embarrassing, she said. I was scolded as if I was still her twelve year old daughter. I didn’t talk to her for two days.
My anxiety is running high. My soul is weary, frustrated as fuck with the state of my life. I can’t seem to catch a break. The universe seems to enjoy breaking my heart. My poor heart looks like a patchwork of broken pieces. PTSD has all but destroyed my brain, anxiety has wrecked my body, and depression has darkened my mind. It’s not healthy anymore. I need a mental and emotional break. Facebook isn’t helping ease my spirit. The whole universe is in the brinks of insanity and mental breakdown. So am I.
I closed my eyes and took a long and deep breath. I made a painful decision of deleting the Facebook app on my cell phone. I went for a long walk and pondered on life. It may sound cliche, but I realized there’s still so much to be grateful for despite how unfair my life feels. Yesterday may be dark but the darkness is always temporary, because the light always reappears the next day. After finding my inner peace from the long walk, I came home and brought out one of my notebooks. I wrote a journal. I also resumed reading my book that I’ve been trying to finish. I made a delicious dinner. I wrote this blog.
I have to accept that the universe is not always on my side, that life can be sad. And the reality we are in now is out of this world crazy. But this too shall pass. And I need to keep my sanity in time of corona.