I’m a metaphorical writer. It’s ironic that I’m blatantly stating this, but I love equating my emotions to the world around me. When I first wrote about this seemingly sudden response to the pandemic, I was angry. I related this sudden change of atmosphere to the change of weather. Why wouldn’t the rain just stop? The sun has been quite absent, along with the typical Southern California culture: friendly faces, a plethora of outings, even detestable traffic. There’s a longing for the familiar to come & reassure us that this is a temporary hardship, and that we will return to the mundane tasks we took for granted. When will the normality return?
The harsh reality is this: we simply do not know. I had spent my 2019 battling- not overcoming- several obstacles. I wondered when I would receive the closure necessary to move on. I wallowed in the abyss of self pity, accepting the notion that 2019 was the year I would not grasp the hardships to be in control. I simply had to accept the unwanted trajectory.
Then, I started 2020 with goals: resolving a few of the burdening issues, pushing my ego aside, and being active. I was happy to be busy again, to feel as if I was contributing, not only to society, but to myself again. I was slowly building the momentum up; I had plans for nearly every month of the year, and I was excited for the challenge. Then out of nowhere, it all stopped. To me, there wasn’t a single warning. The new routine I had built up, the faces I was used to seeing, the goals I had been keen on meeting. Gone.
Throughout my life, I have never been one to sit at home. I’m energetic. I get bored easily. When I graduated in 2018, though, I fell into this severe depression where the only comfort I found was in my bed, and time morphed into a binary: sleep, and lying awake, hopeless. The quarantine rules are becoming stricter by the hour; I can’t help but feel as lethargic and anxious as I had been previously. The difference is that this time I have faith, along with a new-found, positive outlook.
I’m lucky, because if this had happened exactly a year ago, amidst a time of personal & relentless instability, I would not have been ok. I’m lucky, because I’m at home knowing that my family & friends are currently safe. I’m lucky, because I walk through my neighborhood & see the bustle of the parks I grew up in, and I’m reminded of the simplicity of my childhood. I’m lucky, because I can use this sudden break to invest in myself as an artist.
I can pull out the vinyl player that was deep within my closet, and dance in a space that is safest for me.