Authentically Flawed

I’m officially coining a new mental health disorder to represent the absolute dumpster fire that is 2020. By all accounts, this year was supposed to be the best of my 30s. I quit my too-toxic-for-words job, rang in the new year with a loving, and gorgeous man, started a job at a company I love, and celebrated my palindrome birthday in Jamaica. 2020 for the win, right? Pfft.

When coronavirus aka Covid-19 aka The Pandemic started, I was still high on the newness and freedom of my job, and the idea of shelter-in-place was actually refreshing. I had been on the road two to three weeks a month since mid-2016, and was looking forward to being grounded for awhile. In the beginning, I was doing really well and feeling very grateful for all the good in my life, which I wrote about in The Pieces of My Life Came Together…and Then…Pandemic. My life is still great, and I am still grateful for all of the blessings I have, not the least of which is mine and my family’s health. But fuck. This is hard.

When Texas closed, I just naturally assumed I’d be fine because I’m an introvert and I’ve spent years carefully avoiding any social interaction I wasn’t in the mood for. When travel was suspended, I didn’t think I’d be impacted because I wanted to be off the road so badly for so long. While working remote, I assumed I’d have a whole routine – working out, meal prepping, writing, resting, and generally being super healthy and awesome. Hahahaha. Oh the loftiness of these dreams.

As the days turned to weeks, and then the weeks to months, I’ve gone from optimistic and ambitious to woefully unmotivated. What I’ve realized in the past few weeks as depression has creeped in again, is that forced isolation is significantly different from choosing isolation. There have been years in my life when I didn’t see my family for months at a time, but this the first time that I haven’t had the option to see my family. There have been times in my life that I haven’t traveled the way I wanted to; this is the first time I haven’t had the option to travel. That feeling of helplessness has, at times, been overwhelming. I’ve opened my laptop dozens of times, but haven’t found the words; I’ve put on my workout clothes, but haven’t found the strength (literally and figuratively); I’ve opened my journal and stared at the blank page. It’s like everything I used to enjoy doing during my down time is just…down. And the fact that I haven’t seen a member of my family since last Fall weighs heavily on me.

Here’s a newsflash I’m sure will shock you: social media does not help. There are two separate but equally anxiety instigating phenomenons on social – watching those that seem to have their shit together maintain their fitness and other routines when I can’t, and watching the people I love and respect engage in the negativity surrounding Covid. I had a great routine when I was at 24 Hour Fitness but when the gym closed, it severely limited my options. Like most of the rest of the world, I couldn’t find workout equipment to save my life, and the discipline to workout regularly at home, after working from home all day, just wasn’t something I’d prepared for. Then came MaskGate 2020. I have my personal feelings about the efficacy of wearing a fabric face covering, but heaven forbid I express an unpopular option, lest I be berated for being “fucking stupid” or “not caring about other people”. If you know me, you know nothing could be further from the truth, and out of respect for the businesses I do choose to frequent, I wear my mask as mandated. My issue is the vitriol around the topic, and that it’s coming largely from people I’ve admired for years, which makes me feel that much more isolated from the world.

I’ve battled depression for years, this is no secret, and for the last decade I’ve done so without medication. I have no intention of changing that now. But this is a new depression: Covi-depress-iety is the combination of isolation, the lack of motivation that comes from not having the options to be with family or travel, and the anxiety produced by social media (the consumption of which I’ve significantly reduced since June). I know I’m not alone because I’ve talked to some of you about it. Here’s what I can offer to combat this…

Acknowledge that it’s okay not to be okay; this is critical in not getting too weighed down. It’s okay to have good days and bad days and it’s okay if it seems like the bad days outweigh the good-because this is temporary. Communicate with your friends and family. The great thing about disconnecting from social media is it’s allowed me to reconnect with real people. I’ve had more phone calls and text conversations with friends in the last two months than probably the last year. It’s nice to have that one to one vs. one to many dialogue. Don’t compare yourself to others. This is an individual journey and what works for your friend on Instagram or Facebook likely won’t work for you. Last, be gentle with yourself. In times like these, it’s easy to let that inner critic take over your thoughts and emotions. Focus on the positive, whatever that means for you. I’ll be doing the same and sending lots of love, and as much light as I can spare. Cheers, and be kind fam.