“I knew pretty early on that if I didn’t stay connected, in all of this chaos, to the things that were important to me, that I would not do well”
It’s almost the middle of November and the leaves are finally turning different colors. We’ve had days that aren’t above 70 degrees and Halloween candy is still lingering in our home. If you would have told me earlier in the year that we would be in month 8 of a pandemic by the middle of November, I don’t think I would have believed you. Nor would I have had any clue of what that would mean.
The last 8 months have been something that, I would assume, most people never thought they would see. For me, it’s been one of those things that would occasionally cross my mind. It’s like the thoughts I would have around Mother Nature being able to wipe us out. It’s possible that it could happen, but what are the chances? Turns out, the chances were good when you cross a certain species with another.
I try to remember daily that we are not promised the next minute or hour, much less the next day. I try to remember we are not really as in control as we would like to think we are. But, the last 8 months have been such a devastating testament to that in so many different ways, that these thoughts have become almost daily affirmations towards the way we are living.
I would also say that I consider myself and my immediate family very lucky at this point. We have not been sick. We have not lost our jobs. We have not had to watch loved ones die suddenly. We have not had to close a business. We have not had to worry about going to work and possibly catching the virus. I could roll off several other ways that I consider us lucky.
But, we’ve also had to make adjustments that have impacted our lives to a great extent. We juggled our jobs and the 24 hour care for our child for over two months. Each day presented a different set of challenges. Each day I wondered if we were going to keep our jobs and if this new model of operating in our home was sustainable. We made the choice to practically invite the virus into our home by sending our child back to a private daycare in the middle of May.
Some days were better than others. They almost all started to run together without any real weekends. My husband and I were exhausted every day. The mental and emotional exhaustion of the pandemic were almost more than the physical exhaustion we faced. I considered leaving my job to care for our child and to try and keep him/us safe. My husband and I were seeing more of each other than we ever had but, at times, it felt like none of that time was special or truly allowing for connection. We were basically treading water. A lot of days still feel like that.
I knew pretty early on that if I didn’t stay connected, in all of this chaos, to the things that were important to me, that I would not do well. And I found so many people offering that type of support in so many different ways. From immediate online (free) yoga classes to online support groups, I was able, with no trouble, to reach out and ask for help. To ask to be connected.
I also began to realize that the world seemed to have almost stopped. That we, as human beings, were suddenly being given more time outside and more time with our partners and children. We were doing our best to care for each other, our homes, our yards and our neighborhoods. We were forced to slow down. Life suddenly was not the hustle and bustle that so many of us thrive on and there was nothing any of us could really do about it. Although we were dealing with so many complications, life suddenly seemed pretty simple: eat, sleep and stay healthy.
With the number of cases of the virus on the rise again, it’s possible that we could all return to our homes for a limited period of time and life will be more like it was in March, April and May. I read an article at the beginning of all of this that called our time with the pandemic “the hammer and the dance”. We’re going to flatten a curve, get back out and then need to flatter a curve again. We will hammer and then we will dance. No one really knows for how long.
I’ve seen, from so many different sources, that the impact this pandemic is having on our mental health is debilitating. The only way I know to combat that is to help. To write about my personal experience in hopes that it offers connection to someone else feeling the same way. To complete a 200 hour yoga teacher training so that I can begin teaching and bring that gift to others. To continue with my own self care so that I can be available to myself and those around me. And to remember to try and be thankful for each day as we are truly in a time in history when the odds are higher that the next day may not be promised.
My name is Olivia and I am UNCrushed.
