I know I’m not special. I know I am not the only one struggling in this weird coronavirus quarantine haze we keep finding ourselves in. I know I am not the only mom of four. I know I’m not the only one with severe depression and anxiety. I know I am not the only one who doesn’t like social interaction and should be thriving, but isn’t. I know I am not the only one on the verge of a mental breakdown because in-person therapy sessions aren’t happening, but an irrational anxiety of virtual visits means I’m going without support.
I am not the only one. (We can be best friends if you sang this like the Sam Smith song.)
I am not special.
But I am lonely.
It seems silly to think a mom of four–one person in a house of six–is lonely. But here I am. I am lonely, I am anxious, I am scared, and I need help.
The Perfect Victim
I don’t drink alcohol in any form so the idea that I might be taken out by something sharing a name with a beer I associate with MTV Spring Break is absurd. I keep joking that if I die from this, I want everyone to come to my funeral in beach attires and drink Coronas with lime. I’ve always wanted some of my ashes spread out on water in the Gulf of Mexico, so now it feels weird to be think I might have a themed funeral.
All hyperbole aside, I’m am scared. I swear, if I hear one more person say coronavirus is just like the flu, I might lose it. It isn’t like the flu. It has flu-like symptoms but it isn’t the flu. It has the ability to affect your lungs and diminish your ability to breathe. For the majority of people, it might not scare you to an excessive amount.
But it scares me.
I remember when H1N1 was a thing and I blew it off. Of course, I ended up sick with it and it was horrible. My husband and my friend both thought I should go to the emergency room but as the tough (stubborn) chick I was, I refused. Instead, I remained sick for weeks. My chest would hurt for months and, despite my memory loss, I remember how awful it felt to be that sick.
Now, with Covid-19, I have a healthy fear of getting sick. I know that if I catch something as typical as the flu it can quickly get dangerous for me. I get my mega dose flu shot every year and take many precautions to not get sick. I try to stay out of schools as much as I can, I wash my hands frequently, I’m constantly sanitizing and cleaning things in my home.
I have high blood pressure. My BMI puts me in the obese group. I have pre-existing conditions that compromise my immune system. Several of them, actually. I have conditions that on a good day make me feel like I’ve got the worst flu you’ve ever had. Those are my GOOD days, so imagine what it will feel like if I really do have the worst of the worst. If I get sick, I’m in really big trouble.
Do Your Part
Listen, I know it’s awful to stay in your house with no end in sight. I get it. For all of my anxiety and PTSD triggers, I get it. Usually, I like to take long walks in Target so I can touch all of the soft pillows. I like to get fast food lunch to eat in my car alone so I don’t have to buy something for everyone. I love to walk through a bookstore and read the synopsis of every book with a pretty cover. I like to shop for clothes I know will look terrible on (but watching J.Lo makes me feel like tight jeans and teetering on stilettos is a good look for me). I like to go to dinner with friends to talk about random things that don’t matter.
Right now, I can’t do any of that and neither should you.
I hope you don’t get sick. I hope that, even if you feel just fine, you aren’t out and about without taking the necessary precautions. Doubly so if you’re feeling even a little off. What might be an annoying sore throat or dull headache to you could actually kill me or someone else you know. I promise you, there is nothing out in the world more important than someone else’s life.
I don’t care how great of a sale it is.
Stay home if you can. I am sure Pinterest can give you a plethora of ideas on what to do. As for me, I’m trying to help two older kids with distance learning and that’s not enjoyable. I have two younger kids who have more of a homeschool curriculum to do (since they are in Head Start and 4K and it isn’t technology-based) and that has tested every ounce of my patience.
It has come down to my 14 and 12 year-olds teaching the 4 and 3 year-olds how to sing the theme song to Caillou and I think we are all in agreement that is what the waiting room of Hell must sound like.
I promise you that there will be a day you won’t have to be the judge in a court case over which color of purple is best. You won’t have to read the same book 4000 times a day. You won’t have to question someone if they really wiped when you see evidence contrary to that all over your bathroom. You might never have to see Frozen 2 again if you don’t want to. Until then, hunker down. Chips and dip can be a meal. Don’t fight it.
