Of all the things I thought about putting in a blog, a virus wreaking havoc on the world was the furthest from my mind.
It’s been a rather surreal past 2 weeks as I watch the world around me close up shop to lessen the chances of spreading COVID-19.
My European friends have informed me what it’s been like for them with a myriad of adjectives, some of which resonate with me, too.
Let me back it up a super long time ago real quick so you have the perspective of, well, my perspective on all of this.
Basically, I used to be afraid of people and the world in general. Not in a drastic, agoraphobic way, but definitely in a borderline anxiety attack keeps me from socializing and having a good time in public kind of way.
Fast forward 20 years with a lot of life experiences that helped pull me out of that cocoon little by little to make me feel the way I do now: I can do anything (on my best days).
So, for the person I am today, being more or less forced to shack up at home (with my parents on the east side of the city – please help me), because businesses, social functions, my current employers, and places I enjoy to visit are shutting down, is stirring up a lot of frustration.
I am not afraid of what’s happening. Like my European buddies, I am annoyed by the disruption.
Seemingly unlike them, I am also angry.
Anger is a really stupid fucking emotion to have. Nonetheless, it’s been rising up in waves as more things I can’t control are changing and impeding my desires to go out, to move forward.
So, the analytical side of me has started to dissect and reflect on what’s really going on, because, in case you didn’t know, psychologists say anger is a mask over a truer emotion. Usually, it’s fear.
But wait, didn’t I say I’m not afraid? Yes, and that’s true. I am not afraid of living with a “virus on the loose.”
I am, however, fearful of something else…
My anger is masking feelings of helplessness and uncertainty. I feel like my life is suspended in this strange moment when I so badly want it to keep moving towards where I envision it.
While this isn’t the first time ever I’ve felt helpless in the event of many a natural disaster before, I had things I don’t have right now; a stable career, my own home and a partner (and health insurance).
Even though the whole fucking world is dealing with the same thing, I feel a bit like I’m in it alone without a safety net.
With a better idea of my truer emotions, I have been seeking ways to channel and manage them.
Writing about all of this has been pretty helpful today.
I also recently made a spoof rant video about the virus and hysteria behind it, which I am considering posting on YouTube as another form of expression. (If you can’t fight it, make fun of it.)
With YouTube in mind, however, I’ve been struggling with video editing and making art while I don’t feel totally motivated. I am distracted with my suspension and the worldly chaos I’m allowing to invade my brain space.
This past Sunday, though, I found an uplifting message I want to share.
I was in Montrose visiting a friend who suggested walking to the bookstore after I said let’s go for a walk. We hit the clearance section, slowly perusing around it before making our way through games and music. After, I wanted to look at graphic novels for a new read since I’m nearing the end of The Walking Dead saga.
You know how sometimes you can feel an energy drawing you towards it?
I could feel the section inviting me to look through it as I leisurely picked a handful of books, read the summaries and put them back.
Some minutes later, a title caught my eye. It made me feel better.
I pulled it and read the summary.
The book has absolutely nothing to do with the current state of affairs, but I think it’s the exact encouragement I needed to see, needed to be reminded of. In similar words, the thing I try to tell myself when I become distraught.
The summary also led me to think of a friend I’d made at the La Tomatina festival last year who is navigating a sort of mid-life crisis like myself.
I bought the book.
I want this message to stick in my mind and yours, if you’re feeling like I am. I want this to remind you of everything else in your life that you have survived.
I hope you all remain sane and healthy until doors start opening again.