Covid-19 Day Seven

In the last week I have self isolated except yesterday to go out to Lowes to get a furnace filter for my misbehaving furnace and to try to get boots for the boy as he left his shoes at school before it closed. We failed at getting boots because it's spring and so no hikes for me and the boy yesterday or this weekend. Today I ran out to get coffee beans. I felt guilty both times for being out.

I've felt a huge range of emotions this past week about this pandemic. I've been hopeful and anxious. Today it is frustration and anger. I just started an SSRI recommended by my cardiologist for my chronic illness (dysautonomina/POTS). Yes, my heart has been behaving itself, I have way more energy, and my dizziness is almost all gone, BUT as a side effect emotionally I feel SO. MUCH. BETTER. I feel better than I have in months. No, not months, years. I didn't realize how much my negative emotions were controlling me. It's so cliché to say, but after two months on Prozac I feel like myself again. I feel like the old me or maybe not even the old me, I just feel like myself. I've been getting so much stuff done. Stuff I've put off for years, and years is not hyperbole. I've been able to be out and enjoy myself socially. I feel like after spending years hiding in my house I'm ready to go out, to invite people over, to start living my life again.

Then Covid-19 struck. I know it's unreasonable, but I'm pissed. I've spent years in my house, years where being housebound wouldn't bother me one bit, and one month back into my "recovery" I'm forced back where I was for an uncertain amount of time. It feels cruel. I feel like a horrible person for even complaining about it at all, because of course staying home saves lives. And I'm anxious again, because of the uncertainty. I hate uncertainty more than anything, I hate living my life that way, I hate feeling completely out of control of my own damn life. 

I know that I can try to find positives in this. I know that how I frame it will affect my attitude and my family's attitudes as well. I'll try to be positive soon, but in the past seven years, thanks to the help of a therapist, I learned how important it is to feel my feelings and not shut them out, that doesn't actually help me, it just suppresses me. So for now, I'm allowing myself to be angry. I'm allowing myself to say "fuck" in my head a bunch of times about a bunch of things, i.e. "Just when I finally fucking feel fucking better I'm fucking stuck in my fucking house." Typing that makes me feel better, just acknowledging that I'm allowed to feel my feelings and that they are legitimate helps me feel better. 

And so I'll go back to cleaning out my daughter's room and get to using the paint that I got at Lowes when I was getting my emergency furnace filter (something that did make the furnace work better again btw). I'll look forward to Monday when the hopefully the boy's boots that we ordered online will get here and we can go hiking together. I'll be hopeful soon, but today I'm allowing myself to be angry when I need to be.  

Continued . . .

It's been a while. So long in fact I don't recognize the person who wrote this blog. I want to take it all down. I want to erase that person. So much pain in her words, so much uncertainty. It makes me sad for that woman. She was a freaking mess. I don't like to admit that was me. I feel like I've grown so much since then. Some people would say that I've changed in the wrong ways, but honestly when I look at what a mess I was I don't know how they can say that.

I want to write again. Maybe I will - maybe I won't. But I'm opening my blog again. I'm still a mess and I'd like to write about that, but I like who I am now, mess and all. That's not to say I don't want to improve, but I'm glad for my journey and I'd like to continue documenting it.

I don't really care if anyone else comes along, (do people even read blogs anymore?) but I miss writing, so that's what I'm going to try to do for myself.