Thursday 3/19/20 — Quarantine Day Five

Dear Coco,

I couldn’t write yesterday.

I’d fallen asleep the night before in the midst of a full-blown panic attack after hearing the new report: an estimated 2.2 million American lives could be lost before this pandemic has passed. We could be on lockdown for months—as many as 18!

I won’t ramble on about it. It’s all speculation and guesswork, much like everything else is these days.

The day had started off well enough. I awoke to my alarm and pulled myself out of bed. The sun was still not up, but I felt compelled to arise. Some desperate need to maintain a sense of normalcy and routine would not let me hit snooze.

So I went about my morning rituals as I usually would, as if unknown numbers of people were not being threatened by this “novel” virus. As if I hadn’t lain awake all night, imagining my nightmares coming to life. Like a phone call from sister—”Dad is in the hospital. Mom is starting to show symptoms.”

Yes, nights have been full of creative little horrors, but I was determined, yesterday, to carry on with my morning.

I meditated. Made myself a cup of tea. Tried to read.

It was a no-go.

I almost immediately downward spiraled into a pit of worry—

will my parents be safe?

is my sister still at work?

how long until I can work again?

money.

will I be able hold my sweet Sunny’s face up to mine again?

what if I’m already carrying the virus?

who will I know?

what if Nathan gets it?

what if he gets a bad case?

what if someone I love dies?

The “what ifs” are bleak, and yesterday I was fully dragged under by them. I sat for hours in my reading chair, not reading, just sitting. My eyes weren’t looking at anything. They were turned inward, watching the various coronavirus possibilities playing out in my darkly imaginative head.

No happy endings happened in there, dear Coco.

Rules and Emotions

This morning has been better. I didn’t set an alarm to wake up today. I figure any amount of time I can spend sleeping is good. I’m surrendering to the idea of staying indoors. They say every time you exit the home, you increase your odds of contracting the virus. I just want this to pass as quickly as possible, so I’m trying to follow the rules. No one seems to know exactly what the rules are, which is a nightmare of it’s own for a rule-follower like me. Instructions are changing daily, hourly. As is everything else. As are my emotions.

The rules and my emotions—just more waves to ride.

Surf lessons by Coronavirus.

Until the next wave,

J