Finding silver linings when singing self-quarantine blues
Whether you’re in week number one, two, three or four of self-quarantine, the isolation and changes in daily life are bound to be getting to you – at least at some points throughout each week. As a rule, I tend to look at the glass as half-full, always seeing the silver linings, but some days this past month, I had to fight back the tears and really look hard to see that bright side.
Like everyone, I have to keep reminding myself that staying COVID-19 free IS the silver lining and, no matter how long this holing up in our homes takes, we must just keep our eyes on the big prize. We certainly are all in this together!
I think everyone suffering through this pandemic together helps to ease its burden. Misery loves company and it’s an odd soothing feeling to know that the inconveniences and hardships we are now facing are shared with millions of others.
Once a week, I take part in a Zoom video conferencing session with my kids, my nieces and nephews, siblings and some other relatives. Since several of us live in different parts of the country, it’s a practical way for us all to connect and have some midweek competitive fun. We usually play three rounds of Quizzo and then have an informal blab session to see what’s new with everyone before logging off. It used to be a hit or miss if I could afford the time to log on to play because I often work on weeknights. Now, in the recent days of quarantining, the zoom event suddenly turned into the never-to-be-missed social highlight of the week. If you’re not familiar with Zoom conferencing, the image of every participant shows up in a little square on the computer screen so it looks like “Hollywood Squares” or the opening theme song and title sequence of the original “Brady Bunch” show.
We were in between some heated rounds of Quizzo last week, just joking around and chatting, when my son, whom I haven’t seen during my weeks of self-quarantine, said, “Mom, are you alright?”
When I said, “Yes, why do you ask?,” he said, “I don’t know – you look kind of tired.”
I looked at my image in “my square” and it scared even me. My hair was as flat as a pancake, pulled up in a hairband. My clothes were probably the sloppiest I had ever worn since, um, yesterday. I was wearing absolutely no makeup so it was glaringly obvious that I had dark bags under my eyes from staying up all night, for two days straight, binging on the Tiger King series.
I looked around at the other squares. No one looked like themselves. One person had on a rumpled flannel shirt and PJ bottoms. Another had hair sticking straight up in the air. Still, another was playing the game propped up in bed, looking like they either just got up or about to hit the sack the second they logged off. It was a motley crew of yawning , disheveled relatives in tired-looking squares. It was quite obvious that these last few weeks, with all the surreal events that have unfolded, are starting to really get to everyone.
If you stay in your PJs for a week, eat dinner at 9 p.m. or sleep until noon, it doesn’t really matter. This staying inside all day and all night, without any structure or semblance of your previous life, can really take a toll.
I get dressed, only in sweats, right before I go out for a daily walk around the neighborhood, which is the most exercise that I get all day. I think of home projects, but then remember that I can’t go get the materials for them because the stores are closed, so I use that as an excuse not to do them. I put a big X on top of all upcoming events on the calendar. It’s not boredom I am experiencing, it’s blah-dom.
Thankfully, my job and some other key areas of my life keep me busy, or otherwise, I know I would easily become the nap queen. During this weekslong quarantine, I’ve been chastising myself for feeling lazy and unmotivated, thinking I will regret that I didn’t wash my windows, detail my car, update my kitchen curtains and cIean out my closets and spare bedroom, when I had the extra time on the homefront. It seems like a paradox that I had more energy and zest for accomplishing things during pre-quarantine normal days, when I was super busy and lacking much free time. In the days of quarantine, life feels like the movie, “Groundhog Day,” when each new day plays out almost identically as the day before.
When I expressed these lethargic feelings to my daughter, who is a practicing psychologist, she told me that my chronic fatigue and decreased energy levels are pretty normal considering what we are experiencing and they’re likely being caused by prolonged stress. It’s probably true since just about everyone I’ve talked to in the last few weeks, said they are also feeling tired and zapped of energy, even though we are all doing way less than we usually do. Watching news reports all day, every day, and hearing what is going on in our world, in our country, and in our neighborhoods, has turned us all into germophobes and cleaning fanatics, stressed us all out to the max and set us reeling into panic mode.
When I think of the stress levels of most people this spring, worried about their health, the health of their loved ones, jobs, money, childcare, food, homeschooling, mortgages, and a zillion other sudden concerns, no wonder there are so many tired people. According to my daughter, the tiredness is a mechanism for our bodies to store up energy so when the quarantine ends, we will be prepared to get out to tackle the world. Personally, I can’t wait.
In the meantime, I will continue to wake up each morning, and count my blessings, and realize that staying in my jammies ‘til noon is probably one of them. I will thank God with all my heart for another day of staying safe from COVID-19 and keeping my family and friends safe from sickness. And then I will continue to pray for all those who have been stricken with this horrible illness, their frightened families, and all of those on the frontlines giving these patients a fighting chance. After that, nothing else seems all that bad, and much more easier to put up with, if not even feel joyful about. Then, I will slouch downstairs, yawn a little more, and wonder what day of the week it is today. Quarantine has a way of doing that to you.