I’m glad I got to have a moment of escapism and optimism a few weeks ago, because it was fun while that lasted.
The weekends since were a rapid descent back into reality. I was feeling lonely, and I didn't even know where to turn. I felt like I left most of my friendships to rust and decay, and after a few attempts to reach back out, they seemed resistant to resuscitation. On top of it all, it felt like my social skills all atrophied, anyway, and why is every vaccination request website terrible? And why are vaccination rollouts so slow and clunky? And how did we even let it get to this stage in the first place?
A podcast I listened to mentioned an article in the New York Times, "We Have Hit A Wall." It's a short article on late-stage pandemic fatigue and burnout, and at this point, I've read it every few days.
I'm writing this on day 391 of this nightmare, having spent the vast majority of those days living and working alone in my small apartment. It's a lot to contend with, especially imagining that if everyone were as cautious as I, we could have knocked this whole thing out in 2-4 weeks (this is an oversimplification and generalization, but a thought that occasionally surfaces in my mind, nonetheless). I try not to get too frustrated and generally choose to let go of the things I can't control, but it's occasionally been a challenge to maintain my composure when it feels like the continued precautions and sacrifices made by those like me are routinely undone by hordes of people who couldn't care less and can't or won't make the effort.
I think I was nearing a breaking point on Wednesday, but I spent my Thursday workday with the lighthearted adventures of Hilda (Netflix) playing out in the corner of my second monitor, and secured my first vaccination appointment (tomorrow morning!), both of which seemed to help ease me back from that ledge.
I'm feeling a little better now, but next pandemic, I'm moving to New Zealand.