COVID Diary 4

Just had a moment where the multiple traumas and tragedies of late began piling up. The Beirut explosion, the Red Deer doctor attack, so many crazy things happening in this world. For the most part, I have been compartmentalizing ok, but had a wave of emotion hit me when I saw two photos in my CBC Radio stream.

The one that pulled at my heartstrings was this classroom photo of little kids in school, sitting with masks on, at their social distanced desks, so much of their natural spirit controlled, like invisible walls. Not being able to move, to squirm beyond their invisible walls, I can almost see the regimented ways the must need to move about their school, how orderly they must need to be on their breaks. Sad eyes over masks. How tragic. Snuffing out the kid in kids. I am not a parent, so have been learning at an emotional distance about what they say will be the long term effect of COVID on children. But somehow this one picture got me, and I cried. It feels so SAD to see the natural life spirit of kids snuffed out in the very environment they go to be with their friends, to learn, where it used to be an hour or two where they would need to sit controlled before recess, but always still witin note-passing, ruler poking and spitball throwing distance. These kids will be changed by this in ways we cannot be imagined. 30 years from now adults will be struggling through therapy to untangle complex issues. I can't imagine being a parent and needing to navigate all this. And how hard this must be on teachers. They are just little kids.

The other picture was of the arrest of activist Jimmy Lai in Hong Kong. It is just so grim. It says resistance IS futile in any world where China has any influence. What struck me was the faces of the officers that surround him, eyes downcast, in resignation. I want to say in shame, as that's what I imagine I see.

There is more going on, and mostly I cope, but occasionally things pile up and it all hits me. I think the fact that I don't have TV, and don't stream it online, has protected me, by not searing iages of people in hazmat suits into my brain. I think its a wise choice, as I still get plenty of news and analysis and human stories through radio and podcasts. But it also lets images like these stand out, to not pass me by.

COVID Diary 3

I've been reflecting on what I do and don't like about keeping a diary through this.

I have mixed feelings.

I thought at first that it might be interesting to record the experience of a solo who is pretty content overall. I wasn't having trouble isolating.

By recording my experiences, it's both helped and made things harder.

Helped in that it has made me more aware of what I am feeling, I am noticing nuances that might have slipped by me before. And I'm definitely being present.

Made things harder in that by being more present, I am not distancing from my feelings. It is pretty easy for me to get into a zone, and not really examine what is going on all around me, to let it wash over me, and just be. This is forcing me to notice, and by doing so, stuff is coming up more. I am more aware, but I'm also having to process more. That's not a bad thing, but it's a harder thing.

In the end, it is better to be present and process as I go, but I miss the 'luxury' of being able to get into a zone for days at a a time, largely untouched by outside factors. I've also had something personal open up my heart a bit, and that is naturally making my emotions closer to the surface.

Yesterday this manifested in me feeling terribly sad... hardly surprising considering the number of crisis and trauma floating in the ether (pandemic, Nova Scotia shootings, the downed Forces helicopter), coupled with my awareness of friends who are experiencing loss. What got me was hearing the emotions of a journalist after speaking to the mother of one of those lost in the helicopter crash. Not that I am stoic, but I usually like to know the stories; it feels like a way to honour those who have been scarred or who have left us. But I hit a limit yesterday, and it stuck right there in my throat. As I was feeling this, and doodling, I found a tragic face making itself visible on the page, a crying eye, and bringing it out brought everything to the surface.

I am fortunate in that I have skills learned from many years in therapy that I can turn to when I get emotional or stuck. I wasn't yet at the stage of being overwhelmed, let alone panicked, but I have a deep knowledge that even if it gets that bad, I can cope with it. I can process it, I can work it out. This gives me a lot of strength when the chips are down.

The time I learned this was upon my arrival in Athens in 2009, and I had a big dose of culture shock. I felt traumatized and it went very deep. It wasn't so much Athens itself, but I was vulnerable, and something tilted, and I was not doing well. It took me a couple of days to work through it, I think, but I was able to figure out what was going on, and dug deep to find myself, rescue me, and get grounded again. I write about that a bit in my blog (Arrival in Athens and Chocolate, worry beads and a Greek rainstorm), and although I did not reveal a lot, I remember what a mess I was. That experience has taught me how resilient I really am. And the knowledge of that has helped me a few times in recent years, when I hit a wall. In the present, I wasn't there (yet), was just feeling emotional, but I was reminded of this, and it gave me comfort.

In the end yesterday, I worked it through a bit, then mostly distracted myself for the day (with all news off), and gave myself time.

Today, I feel much better.... but it's also what inspired me to think about how documenting at this time is helping me, and not helping.

Not helping? No, it's not that. It can never be a bad thing to be present and to deal with one's stuff, but it IS harder.

Harder isn't a bad thing.

I think I'd rather have it be harder, and have to work it through, than not feel anything at all, or feel oblivious.

It's all good, it's all good....