I have begun the arduous climb out of the abyss I fell into this week.
A lot has been going on here, none of which is very interesting, but it did include a self-indulgent pity party in which I wallowed, and slept, almost continuously for several days.
Sorry (not sorry) you weren’t invited.
I’m about halfway out of the abyss today. And these posts (part i, ii and iii) which I started and edited several times over the past few days, deserve to see the light of day.
Or not. (Reader’s discretion advised.)
partied wallowed, I came to realize something. My current daily routine is remarkably similar to how it was before the pandemic arrived.
Lifting lock-down restrictions would mean little for me – I’m still going to be here doing more or less the same thing.
Don’t get me wrong, I make no illusion that the world has changed. A lot has changed, much of which will continue to prevail.
The new normal is going to be a different normal, and this is probably a good thing. Our earth needs healing. I think most of us believe this in theory.
I feel a deep, profound sense of mourning on a level that is hard to explain.
Is it because I’m in mid-life?
Is this the same crisis from a couple of years ago with a new spin?
Or is this a new crisis altogether precipitated by the illuminating, introspective effects of the global pandemic?
I keep trying to understand. To hear the voice inside my head. To feel something besides uncertainty and sorrow.
Maybe it’s age related.
Perhaps when parents reach the age of offspring-detachment, they undergo a sort of awakening that pushes them to search for a newly-evolved identity.
I have (had?) offspring who began to step outside their parental boundaries in recent years. At 12 and a half and 15, that was considered a normal development. But those boundaries have tightened again while we shelter in place.
It’s like a step backwards, for them, but also, for me.
Although I don’t quite feel like I’m suffocating as much nowadays, I still fall down into these deep, dark pits periodically (see above, abyss and pity party).
When my son started high school last September, I saw myself standing at a fork in a road once again. I had some choices laid before me, and I contemplated some different routes to take.
There was a loosely-formed plan of action developing in my head.
I may have approached this plan with some trepidation at first, but over time, I discovered some emerging characteristics I didn’t know I possessed.
I found myself transforming, slowly, into a person I didn’t initially recognize.
But I kinda liked her…the pre-pandemic woman I was becoming. You know?
Now, she’s sitting on the sofa, chained to home and hearth. Again.
to be continued…