The year of the pandemic; Reflections
It has been a tremendous year.
March of 2020 it all began. Locked down by the reality of COVID-19. Suddenly, none of us were safe. We had to contend with the possibility of sickness and death. I had to consider the safety of my family, of my own life. It seemed to come so suddenly and without the needed guidance of our leaders. They downplayed the risks in order to make themselves look good, something I cannot forget. Over 600,000 innocent people have died in this country, leaving behind grieving families and children without parents. I have fared well and we are some of the lucky ones. However, I have not seen my parents or brother in nearly two years. My six-year-old son is missing out on time with his grandparents. We have followed the guidelines because in our hearts we feel that this is the right thing to do.
A global crisis such as this tests all of us. With my history of eating disorders, alcoholism, and depression I knew that self-care had to be a priority. I have journaled more this past year than I have for many years. Almost nightly, I put pen to paper and I count my gratitudes. I process and work out my internal conflicts to the best of my ability and I take it one day at a time, suiting up and showing up. It has been tremendously helpful to be of service to others. Reinforcing the importance of self-care makes me practice it myself. I get outside. I move my body. I eat consistently. No skipping of meals, listening to my hunger and honoring it. I notice the increased speed of which I eat when emotions get stronger. I notice, and I pause. I regroup and I go back to what I know works. Compassion, patience, thinking it through.
I have witnessed so many of my clients struggle more this year. It’s understandable that during such times of unpredictability and fear we turn to something, anything to make things seem more orderly. I thankfully did not feel a need to turn to ED behaviors or drinking. These are so far behind me that I don’t even consider them an option. I made lists instead. We put in new flooring and painted our kitchen cabinets. I began to clean my house weekly, something I had been paying for for many years. There was a sense of satisfaction in keeping things in order or at least in the illusion of order. It’s funny how we all want that illusion of control.
My clients struggled with not eating enough. With over-exercising. With overeating and staying in bed. With isolating and not leaving the house, with self-injury and dropping activities they previously enjoyed. Some purged their food as a release of all the crap that they could not express and all the guilt for not doing better. Some had suicide attempts. Luckily, none succeeded.
I challenge you if you are turning to these behaviors to reflect, like I have on what this is really serving you. What is the function? What is the message in the actions you are taking? Are you debilitated by an inability to feed yourself? Is this the overwhelm of everything just being too much, a cry for help? For someone to show up for you and help you do it? To remind you that you are not alone? Is the compulsive exercise a way to release the anxiety of the day? A way to give yourself permission to eat and soothe yourself with food? Is the bingeing a break from reality? Are you choosing foods that are fun, reminiscent of better times? Do you want more friendships? More love? More excitement in your life? Adventures have been hard to come by with all these restrictions .
We have much to learn from this year. Preparedness, science and executing emergency plans are of course at the forefront of these lessons. But emotionally, there are so many other nuances of lessons that are up for grabs. For me, I see how numb I can make myself by staying busy, by checking off the tasks on my list, and thereby feeling like I am managing what is actually outside of my control. The truth is I have been scared. I have reflected on mortality, on the potential of great loss and grief. I have witnessed dear friends fall very ill with the virus, wondering if they would make it. I have thought of my family a lot. I don’t know if I will ever be exactly the same or if the world will be. I am somewhat angered by people running out mask-less partying and enjoying their freedoms as if nothing ever happened, as if it’s all behind us. Perhaps, I am jealous. Perhaps I am over-cautious and more anxious than I realized. But this is my truth.
I wanted to share my reflections and thoughts and document in some small way the impact that this year has had on me. I am perhaps a bit more grounded. I am perhaps a bit more realistic of the fragility of life, of the vulnerability of the human condition. I am humbled by the power of something so small that can cause so much devastation. I am beyond grateful for our wellbeing and fortune. I feel heavy-hearted and grieved for all those that did not fare as well as us. I feel hopeful for the future but yet, cautious. I have learned too that I can manage and handle a lot. Actually, it’s something I have always known about myself. I have a resilience that is perhaps more biological than something I can take credit for.
I have watched many fall to their knees this year. Children and teenagers have suffered in particular. Many have lost their spark, their ability to function. Glued to a screen for hours a day, separated from their peers, their tribe that they so badly need has been absolutely devastating. I now watch with joy the reunion of these friendships, the coming together of these kids in a way that I hope will be gentler, kinder and more appreciative of each other.
I am curious what you have learned this year? If you are willing to be vulnerable and share, I would love to hear from you. One thing is certain to me. And if we didn’t know it before the virus, we ought to know it now. We are all deeply, undeniably, connected.