‘ I can’t breathe’ has meaning for all of us in 2020

“I can’t breathe” should become the slogan for 2020. These few words have resounded for advocates against social and civil injustices.

These words were the last for Eric Garner, Javier Ambler, Manuel Ellis, Elijah McClain, and of course, George Floyd onMay 25.

“I can’t breathe” signifies the gasping and suffering deaths of nearly 2 million people worldwide by the end of this year, from the coronavirus. I, myself, was hospitalized in September due to this deadly virus, from which I uttered these words as they hookedmeup to oxygen and I beggedGodto letmeseemy children one more time.

“I can’t breathe,” says the medical worker after 12- hour shifts in the hospital COVID- 19 ward, under filtering respirators and protective goggles. The rest of the population thinks wearing paper masks for a 20- minute shopping trip is unbearable.

“I can’t breathe” is being uttered quietly and globally by those confined, quarantined, masked and gloved, and more so, anguished by the mental and emotional suffering of not seeing loved ones and tormented by social distancing. Now we realize how much a hug can alleviate anxiety and despair.

“I can’t breathe,” says the family breadwinner after nine months of unemployment, thousands of calls and emails to the state department of labor, and fears that they will not be able to pay their rent in January, while government officials post “Happy Holidays” on their Facebook accounts. I amone of those also, nowwith no more unemployment benefits, no health insurance and a mentally disabled dependent. So afraid of what 2021 will bring, or not bring.

“I can’t breathe,” say so many people that have lost jobs, homes, insurance and worse, loved ones. The anxiety attacks bring back memories of oxygen tanks, respirators and ventilators and the desperation to breathe again normal someday ifwe can only find a mustard seed of hope.

I have woken up in the middle of the night feeling like there are cinderblocks on my chest, gasping for air, trying to bring to mind just a shred of hope that things may someday get better. My father just died a few weeks ago and I am here, packing up my parent’s belongings so my mother can move someplace where she will be safe, secure, and lessworried.

Shewas prone to anxiety attacks before, but now, with the emotional escalations, I hear her as she sits quietly in her favorite chair, loyal dog by her side, breathing heavily and trying to concentrate on inhaling and exhaling normally.

So many of us are having trouble breathing. Trouble coping. Trying to find glimmers of hope in an uncertain world. Let us pray that “I can’t breathe” will not be thewordswe utter with our last breath.

Annapolis resident Carol previously worked in international project development and is active in work to help those suffering from mental illness.