It’s Time to Get Out of Our Pandemic Slump
2020 has weighed down on us long enough.
It’s almost November, friends. Let that sink in for a bit.
We’re coming up on eight months of life in a pandemic world. Some countries have seen drastic dips in number of cases, and have been awarded teasers of life before everything changed.
For those of us in the US, though, it’s been one long, unending wave. No breaks. No returns to true normalcy. Just one continuous, expanding mess.
The summer months did, however, bring creative ways of dealing with the our new restrictive world. In many US cities, outdoor dining became ubiquitous. Parks were full of people eager to socialize safely and distantly. Testing became more widely available, shortening the number of days to wait for results. Now, if you were potentially exposed, you could at least find out for sure.
The confining habits I formed during months of social isolation had suddenly become my new normal.
I, however, could not get myself out of my “pandemic slump” in time to take advantage of these innovative summer perks. The confining habits I formed during months of social isolation had suddenly become my new normal. Wake up. Work. Close work computer. Open personal computer. Order food delivery. YouTube. Netflix. YouTube.
I recognize the incredible amount of privilege I have to even be able to live this isolated, sedentary way of life. If I didn’t feel like making food, I could still be fed while barely lifting a finger. I could keep my job without having to step foot outside my door. I could pass the time in an endless loop of online entertainment.
Still, there’s no doubt that I was slipping into a borderline depressive lifestyle. I needed to do something drastic to snap out of it. So I made a calculated risk and flew halfway across the country to visit my family.
I barely left the house before embarking on my trip. I got myself tested for the virus before, during, and after my visit. I researched the risks of flying thoroughly, comforted by the use of HEPA filters and constantly refreshed air on airplanes. I chose an airline that was committed to blocking middle seats, and to strictly enforcing the use of masks.
And it was the best thing I could’ve done for my mental health this year. It awoke me from my isolation-induced slump.
I needed a change of scenery. I needed to be near loved ones that I hadn’t seen in over a year. I needed to go back to a place that I knew — a place that reinvigorated me at my core.
This break in my routine of isolation helped me to realize the breadth of things that I could still do, even in the midst of social distancing. I realized the habits I was forming were detrimental to my physical and mental well-being. There was still plenty to explore in a city I had only moved to a year ago. There were people I made connections with that I could still find a way to safely see. There was a sewing machine collecting dust on top of my dresser that I could finally plug in and use. There were still road trips to surrounding nature that could be taken. There was so much that I could have been doing that I refused to allow myself to explore.
As we near the end of the-year-that-set-us-all-back, let’s lean in to the creativity that helped our summers flourish. Let’s try to take back our lives in new, safe ways. Let’s finally get around to exploring that hobby, or to going on that hike. Let’s bundle up for the winter months, and take to the outdoors for some socializing and fresh air.
Let’s not let the weight of what this year has done to us control what is to become of us.
