quarantine…

Today marks ten weeks that I have been at home due to the local coronavirus stay at home order, leaving only for essential needs, walks, and the occasional dog park visit. I can’t believe it has been that long. I can’t believe we even found ourselves in this situation where we needed to stay home for ten weeks. It’s a weird world, friends.

I expected quarantine would be more difficult than it has been. Having a chronic illness prepares you for this sort of thing. When I first developed stomach issues 15 years ago, I dropped out of law school and moved back home with my mom and stepdad. For almost a year, I left my mom’s house only to go to doctor’s appointments and the library. The internet wast still in its infancy, and I wasn’t able to do a lot of the things I have enjoyed now, like video calls with friends, online museum tours, or streaming concerts. I couldn’t take online classes, and I couldn’t work. I was too sick to exercise, and I didn’t have a dog to keep me company. I mostly read and napped. But what I remember most was the loneliness, watching the rest of the world continue on in my absence, with little hope and no end date in sight. Nothing makes you feel less significant than disappearing from your life with little fanfare.

I don’t want to romanticize quarantine, because it has been hard. I miss my sister and dad. I miss hugs. I miss quick chats with strangers while standing in line at the coffee shop. I miss talking about anything other than this stupid virus, no matter how trivial. I miss having just five minutes to myself, because privacy doesn’t exist when everyone is always home. I miss not constantly worrying about the health of everyone I love. I’m grateful that my symptoms have been manageable throughout all of this, but only for me to be stuck inside anyway.

But, honestly, I feel like the time I spent mostly homebound greatly prepared me for this, and the virtual happy hours, Netflix, being able to exercise and play with my dog, and knowing that everyone else on the planet is going through the same shit at the same time makes this so much more bearable. People remember that I’m still here, that I still exist, and even if they can’t see me right now, I’m not invisible. There’s something almost poetic about being apart together, being universally connected through distance, instead of being forgotten and alone.

So, friends, I’m sorry this sucks, and I’m sorry this is the way the world is right now, but thank you for going through it with me. When this is all over, please continue to call or invite your chronically ill loved ones to virtual coffee dates and online games. Because for some people, the end of the pandemic doesn’t mean the end if isolation.

I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough to make every moment holy. – Rainier Maria Rilke

Take care and stay safe.
Smell ya later.
– Linds