Pandemic in Mental Health

Self-isolation is nothing new to me. It’s something I have been doing on and off (mostly on) for a lot of my adult life. Forced self-isolation doesn’t feel so great, though. And I’m not completely alone because I’ve got my boys here with me, so that’s something.

My anxiety is in overdrive. I am catching myself about a hundred times a day clenching my jaw so hard that it hurts, but I don’t notice I’m doing it until the pain kicks in.

I’m horribly depressed, but I’m maintaining okay for the most part.

As I checked in with a friend today, I realized… no one is checking in with me. No one is asking how I feel, how I’m doing, how I’m handling any of this.

Not well, that’s how. But I put on a brave face, a mask, because I don’t want to be seen as weak. And, I guess, I’m not weak, because I’m surviving, right? I mean, sure, I might spend most of my day wanting to curl up in a ball and cry, but at least I’m surviving.

This pandemic has only highlighted for me how truly alone I am in the sense of friends. Sad that it took forced isolation for me to see what was right in front of me all along. I feel like there are only 3 people in this world who would be affected if something happened to me. And sure, those 3 people are top-notch, high-quality people, and I love them more than anything, but…

When I was young, I would say, “I’m going to be totally alone some day and that’s probably for the best.” Back then, I believed that I didn’t fit in the world and I never would. All of the years between then and now have been an endless effort to find the place that maybe I could fit, the people who could love and care for me.

I’d say, “the search continues,” but… maybe it doesn’t need to. Maybe I was right all of those years ago. Maybe the world is better off with me outside of it. Maybe I’m just not essential personnel.

Yeah, depression. Major depression. The-sun-is-never-gonna-shine-again depression.

(sigh)