The reaction to Covid-19 has been all over the map. And I’m not talking about the medical reaction or the political reaction in this case. I mean the reaction by individuals who are forced to self-isolate in an attempt to slow the spread. There has been the panic, of course. The pain and the angst. All of that was to be expected. The freaking out was to be expected. As was the frantic hoarding followed by the confused, “Well, what now?” This seems to be the main reaction, and I want to stress that it’s an appropriate one. However, it’s not the only reaction, and I want to talk about the ones that aren’t as prevalent.
What is my reaction to the whole situation? It’s a mixture. For most of the day, I’m experiencing low-level anxiety. Quite frankly, it’s not much different than how I feel most of the time. I saw someone online mention this as well, how she was feeling pretty much the same thing she always felt. Hey, depression is not good for much, so if there’s a silver lining, I consider it a plus. My sleep is more fucked up than usual, but I’m used to that, too. I’m not freaking out, and I’m actively trying to not take in too much information because I know I’m already on overload.
I’ve made the decision to do my grocery shopping online, so I will not be going out for the foreseeable future except to get my meds. In addition, I already had pretty limited social interaction before the call to self-isolate. I’ve been washing my hands so much, the skin hurts. Everything that I order sits in my garage for at least three days (except perishables, of course), and I’ve taken to saying that’s where they live now. I’ve interacted with people twice in the last two weeks other than a wave and a smile from afar to the neighbors as they walk by my house. In other words, my chance of infection is pretty low. I’ve even told my brother not to come inside when he stops by to drop off some masks.
By the way, it’s really frustrating me that my mom and brother are fixated on masks. Specifically, me wearing a mask. I’m not saying you shouldn’t wear a mask. even with all the conflicting information out there, it can’t hurt as long as you follow other best practices. However, I am not going out any longer. Even when I was while this was all going on, I was out for maybe twenty minutes once a week to grocery shop. I kept my distance and covered my with the sleeves of my hoodie. Washing my hands up to twenty times a day. My brother, on the other hand, was still doing his regular business every day for the first two weeks, and even now, he still has some contact with people. Apparently, being a realtor falls under essential business, which is weird. I mean, yes, people need homes, but this is not really the time to be moving. Anyway, he had a closing the other day, and he’s still running sound for his (empty) church so they can stream on Sundays.
My mom has people delivering food. She still has her house cleaner come over. She’s contemplating surgery in a week. She’s casual about hand washing, saying three times a day is enough. I know part of it is an Asian/American split, but it just shows that we all have our biases. She’s been obsessed with me wearing a mask, even though I’ve told her repeatedly that I wasn’t going out hardly at all and now not at all. I know it’s because she’s an anxious type who needs to feel she can control something in a time of uncertainty, but it’s not helping my own anxiety at all. She’s the voice in my head manifested outside my head, and it’s. not. helping. At all. If anything, it’s hurting in two ways. One, the aforementioned making my own anxiety spiral out of control. Two, it pricks my anti-authoritarian/contrarian side, making me want to do it even less.
In addition, there’s a family construct that I’m the fuck-up in the family. It’s true to a certain extent, but this feels as if it’s just adding to that narrative. In this case, I don’t think it’s fair because I’m the one who’s probably the least in danger of getting covid-19 from the view point of actual possibility. Yes, I’m probably the most susceptible because my immune system is shit, but that’s part of the reason I’ve taken the extreme measure of not going out at all. I feel like them harping on it is there way of saying, “Minna can’t do shit on her own.” I’m the one who’s a pro at self-isolation! I’m not the one who’s going out every day like my brother or not washing my hands like my mother! Also, masks are more to keep the germs in than to stop the germs from infiltrating. In other words, it’s better if the person who’s sick wears it rather than someone who’s not sick. My brother and mother refuse to see this point, which is infuriating as well. Again, it probably does help a little bit for people who aren’t sick, but it’s not enough to freak out over it.
Then again, freaking out doesn’t help in general. It’s one thing to be prepared, but there comes a point here you have to just let it go. You can only do so much, and it becomes counterproductive after a certain point. I think my mother has reached that point, but that’s her M.O., and she’s not going to change at this point. I just need her to keep it away from me. For now, I’m taking to ignoring her any time she mentions the masks because if I get her off this, it’ll be something else. She *has* to have something to worry about (several things), and if I scratch this one off her list, it’ll be something else.
My father asked me the other day if I was taking my temperature every day. Um, no. First of all, I don’t get temperatures. My base is 97.5, and the highest I’ve ever gotten is 100, and that was for about three minutes. And, yes, I’m sure that my temp is that low because I was taking it several times a day for several days at one point. Two, I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE. I don’t think I can overstate this enough.
My mom’s brother is sending us masks. Fine, whatever. Except, he’s sending them to my brother who then has to bring half to me. I mean….There’s no reason for this and it just increases my chance of getting the Covid-19. Adding a person into the mix adds one more vector, even if it is my brother. Especially my brother! He’s just going to leave it outside my door, but why not just send them directly to me if they have to be sent? The excuse is that my mom doesn’t want them to get stolen, but again, I’m home all the fucking time and my brother isn’t! Yes, he has a wife and two kids there with him, but I. Am. Here. All. The. Time. Honestly, I think it’s because he’s older and a man. I really do. Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense at all. I’m nearly half a century old, and I’m still the baby.
The one reaction that is making me sad is the one where there are people happy to not have to go into work, but feel guilty about it. They fall over themselves to assure everyone that they know they’re lucky, blah, blah, blah. They’re all women as far as I can tell (or at least female-presenting), and I want to tell them to just enjoy it! Obviously, it’s a shitty time, but it’s not going to make things better to be wracked with guilt. I’m not feeling happy right now, but that’s because I don’t feel happy in general. I’m just not freaked out because as I’ve written before, I’m aces in an actual crisis.
I am starting to feel antsy, though, because we’re in this weird stasis. No one knows when anything is going to get better, which is the one thing that I have a hard time dealing with. My parents were talking about their yearly visit here, saying they wanted to come in early August. Will things be good to go by then? Who knows? It’s my birthday in two days (one day by the time you read this), and I’ve never felt less like celebrating. Granted, I never feel like celebrating, but it’s even worse this year. The best I can hope for is that the day goes by without incident. That’s all I’m hoping for all the days right now.