Everyone’s dealing with the pandemic differently (including those that somehow refuse to believe the virus is real?), but I’m sure a lot of us are dealing with slightly similar things. Either way, I wanted to talk about my experience a year into this thing, and the three phases I’ve gone through.
Am I whining? Maybe. But I’m mostly just writing about my personal experience, and that’s okay.
The Initial Fear
[march – june 2020]
At first it was all just… weird. Nothing like this had ever happened before in my lifetime (or my parents, or my grandparents…). I remember going going to the gym then going out for my friend Angela’s birthday and suddenly everything closed down. “Two weeks,” they said, “then everything will be back to normal.” Or something like that.
I remember transitioning to online classes, everyone suddenly having to figure out how to use Zoom (which we had never even heard of before). I enjoyed the transition because I liked not having to go all the way up to school (saved 2 hours of commuting every day) and I work well on my own. I did very well in all my classes and it luckily was not an issue for me.
I remember cancelling our trip to Europe. One of my best friends and some others from school were doing a class in Zürich that our faculty was offering and I wanted to go with them before their classes started as a treat to myself for finishing grad school. I ended up with airline credit that I have to use within 2 years (guess I better get on that… somehow), and only losing about $150 for a non-refundable train ticket.
I remember the playground up the street from me closing down, covered in yellow CAUTION tape, with a couple City of Calgary signs forbidding usage. At one point, another playground in my neighbourhood had this stuff torn off of it and shoved in the garbage.
I remember being wary of passing people on the street, never knowing. Stepping into the road to avoid them and stay 2m apart.
I remember wiping down all the groceries once I was home, not entirely sure if the virus could spread on surfaces like that. I remember all the toilet paper and cleaning supplies going missing from every store because of the damn hoarders.
I remember sewing my first mask out of fabric I ordered online. It’s double sided and has a nose wire. I still carry it in my purse, even though I have better ones now.
I remember… not really minding it all. I like my solitude, and “enjoyed” the beginning of the pandemic. I worked out every day, went for long walks with the dog every day, enjoyed working outside once it was warm enough. I felt alright, despite not knowing what the future held. And I was comforted by the fact that the entire world was affected, it wasn’t just me.
The “New Normal”
[june – december 2020]
Eventually I got used to doing all these things. I landed my first job in my new field, and started in the office the day everything “opened back up.” I didn’t mind not seeing my friends as often as I used to, or going places, or the fact I couldn’t even do a lot of the activities I like. I think still being able to interact with my coworkers regularly (even with plexiglass dividing us) helped my adjustment.
I adapted to this new way of life, although I am lucky that I wasn’t so adversely affected as others. I was happy to see the worldwide carbon emissions decrease, working from home become more widely accepted, and everyone just… slow down a bit.
I spent a lot of my free time outdoors when the weather was nice, going for drives out of the city to responsibly explore. I played a lot of video games, watched TV, read books, just did things I generally like to do.
I bought a mountain bike as a graduation present to myself and started to hit the trails. Actually, technically my mom bought it for me (thanks mom!).
The gyms opened back up too, so at least I was able to do that, but I was usually the only person there wearing a mask, and definitely the only person trying to stay away from others… This was really frustrating because I want people to stay away from me at the gym even when there isn’t a pandemic going on, but whatever.
I was really gung-ho about projects around the house, working hard to install a new patio in my backyard, doing some landscaping and gardening. Trying new things, learning frequently.
Now I carry a million masks in my purse, keep extras in my car, and have a stack of them near the front door of my house.
I don’t wipe down all my groceries anymore, but I still sanitize my hands probably 30 times a day.
I’ve gotten used to not seeing people.
I’ve gotten used to not being able to hug my mom on the rare occasions we see each other.
It all just seemed fairly manageable and easy to deal with until it’s hopefully all over one day soon.
The Fatigue
[december 2020 – present]
While I’ve gotten used to all these things throughout 2020, different feelings started settling in near the end of the year.
I found myself getting frustrated all the time, for seemingly no reason. I’ve always had anger issues, but now they’re elevated and I have a hair-trigger temper. Good thing I don’t see many people because I’m sure I am not very fun to be around anymore.
The things I enjoyed before – gaming, reading, house projects – are no longer interesting to me. I’ve had materials to do some work to my kitchen backsplash for months, but can’t seem to drag myself to actually do any of it. Even working out at home when everything closed back down became frustrating and unenjoyable.
But I started to realize it’s because there’s no respite when living in the COVID world. Time off of work is spent at home, doing…. nothing. Trying to stay entertained. Running out of energy to do anything productive by the time work is done. Doing the same things day after day like the movie Groundhog Day, except I don’t get to start each day completely over which I honestly think would be more fun than this. Most days I go to sleep pretty early, around 9pm, because I’m just so bored.
I can’t remember the last time I felt happiness, or was excited. There’s nothing to look forward to anymore. My weekends are mostly spent catching up on chores or things I didn’t have the time or energy to do during the week. I can confidently say I’m not depressed, and that’s probably why this situation feels so foreign to me – if I were depressed, at least I would know what to do with it.
I’ve gotten used to not even talking to my friends. I’ve gotten used to not having the energy or the drive to even respond to messages anymore.
Lately I’ve felt like a shell of myself. Just a worker, a task performer, a maid, a cook, a servant.
There’s no escape from my own life.