Meltdown In Aisle 3
I thought I was doing pretty well.
Remarkably well, in fact.
Creative plan/ hobby ✔
Deep clean house ✔
Fitness plan ✔
New books ✔
Handle finances and Service Canada ✔
Learn something new ✔
Ideas for new meals ✔
I was pleasantly surprised as how easy it was to fall back into my unemployment routine, and thought I'd be rolling out a support group on keeping your sh*t together.
You know?
Like all those "don't give a f#@k" books, but with keeping sh*t together instead.
Really, you're having a hard time?
Nope, not me.
I'm actually doing great.
Had plenty of practice, ya know?
This ain't my first rodeo at not workin'.
People were sending me notes asking how I was doing, and I kept thinking -
Why are you asking me this?
I'm TOTALLY fine.
Until yesterday.
Yesterday, I was NOT fine.
Yesterday, I sat on the basement floor and cried for a really long time.
When I was done feeling sorry for myself, I picked up a notebook and wrote numbers from 1-50.
Under every entry, I wrote what I was angry about.
I am angry I was self destructive.
I am angry I am not working.
I am angry I don't have a cheque from Service Canada.
I am angry I can't pay my mortgage.
I am angry I can't see my friends.
I am angry I have no insurance on my car.
I am angry I can't see my family.
I am angry I can't hug my Mom.
I am angry people are dying.
I am angry at the complete disaster and tragedy in Nova Scotia.
I am angry the world has stopped.
I'm angry it's snowing in April.
I'm angry I'm out of Bath and Body Works foaming hand soap.
(You are not allowed to judge what I get angry about).
Speaking of Bath and Body Works, please note that this is downgraded from my Sage handsoap and very soon to be the Dollarama special.
Anyways, I was so angry, I could have kept writing angry lists long past 50, but I stopped at the end of the numbers and shredded the lists.
The exercise was an attempt at releasing all that was bubbling around, like a pot of spaghetti sauce in my mind, waiting to boil over.
(highly recommended therapy)
The smartest decision I made yesterday was to join a yoga class after I finished this meltdown, instead of drowning myself in a bottle of wine, which trust me - at the time, sounded far more appealing.
***
The point was, that after 4 weeks, I'd reached a breaking point of Cabin Fever.
This isn't "normal" unemployment.
There is nowhere to go and no one you can see, except virtually.
As I was crying over the state of the union, as we could call it, I realized that this lockdown goes against our entire purpose in humanity.
We are gifted with five senses in a human life.
(I would actually argue there is 6, but that's for another day).
To see, touch, hear, smell and taste all that there is physically available to us. We are able to hug our families and friends, smell the popcorn in a movie theater, taste the latest IPA at a Craft Brewery or hear the beat of the music to our core when we attend a concert.
Every one of these things, and so many more, is taken from us right now and the size of our world and experiences has shrunk to our own walls of whatever shelter we are under.
***
My gratitude lists have changed now.
They aren't the April flowers outside my window anymore.
(Especially since it's freaking snowing)
They are all the things I miss.
The energy and buzz of a packed restaurant on a Friday night, the noise of the kids playing in the water at the beach while I'm lying on a blanket taking in the sun, browsing the bookstore with a latte in hand and taking my time in the grocery store, reading every label because there is no fear of needing to hurry.
We feed off the energy of other people we are around and places we go to that make us feel good, and without those, our energy reserves are taxed and our mental states are amplified.
We need to refuel and fill up, fill up, fill up - and there is a loss similar to grief for many of us during this time, who are missing what fuels us the most.
***
I'm better today.
My own self awareness has evolved so much that I can see the tsunami (most times) before it hits now, and I try to recluse and brace myself until it's over, noticing that the waves disappear much faster than they used to.
I also don't doubt I will get through it.
I know I am able.
This time matters.
This moment matters.
For the earth.
For all of us.
I really do believe that.
But some days are hard, and many are struggling with the isolation and restrictions in place, and may need a reminder that they are not alone.
So we need to keep asking the people we know need help, the people who we think are the strongest, and all those in between -
How are you?
Because even if they are fine today, tomorrow they might not be.
And that "how are you" provides the gift of connectivity our humanity so desperately craves during this time of social distancing and isolation.
***
This post is my "how are you" right back to all those who have been kind and thoughtful to me, and to all those out there who need it.
May you be granted strength in a time of struggle,
peace in a time of fear, and
love in this time of crisis.
🙏
Remarkably well, in fact.
Creative plan/ hobby ✔
Deep clean house ✔
Fitness plan ✔
New books ✔
Handle finances and Service Canada ✔
Learn something new ✔
Ideas for new meals ✔
I was pleasantly surprised as how easy it was to fall back into my unemployment routine, and thought I'd be rolling out a support group on keeping your sh*t together.
You know?
Like all those "don't give a f#@k" books, but with keeping sh*t together instead.
Really, you're having a hard time?
Nope, not me.
I'm actually doing great.
Had plenty of practice, ya know?
This ain't my first rodeo at not workin'.
People were sending me notes asking how I was doing, and I kept thinking -
Why are you asking me this?
I'm TOTALLY fine.
Until yesterday.
Yesterday, I was NOT fine.
Yesterday, I sat on the basement floor and cried for a really long time.
When I was done feeling sorry for myself, I picked up a notebook and wrote numbers from 1-50.
Under every entry, I wrote what I was angry about.
I am angry I was self destructive.
I am angry I am not working.
I am angry I don't have a cheque from Service Canada.
I am angry I can't pay my mortgage.
I am angry I can't see my friends.
I am angry I have no insurance on my car.
I am angry I can't see my family.
I am angry I can't hug my Mom.
I am angry people are dying.
I am angry at the complete disaster and tragedy in Nova Scotia.
I am angry the world has stopped.
I'm angry it's snowing in April.
I'm angry I'm out of Bath and Body Works foaming hand soap.
(You are not allowed to judge what I get angry about).
Speaking of Bath and Body Works, please note that this is downgraded from my Sage handsoap and very soon to be the Dollarama special.
Anyways, I was so angry, I could have kept writing angry lists long past 50, but I stopped at the end of the numbers and shredded the lists.
The exercise was an attempt at releasing all that was bubbling around, like a pot of spaghetti sauce in my mind, waiting to boil over.
(highly recommended therapy)
The smartest decision I made yesterday was to join a yoga class after I finished this meltdown, instead of drowning myself in a bottle of wine, which trust me - at the time, sounded far more appealing.
***
The point was, that after 4 weeks, I'd reached a breaking point of Cabin Fever.
This isn't "normal" unemployment.
There is nowhere to go and no one you can see, except virtually.
As I was crying over the state of the union, as we could call it, I realized that this lockdown goes against our entire purpose in humanity.
We are gifted with five senses in a human life.
(I would actually argue there is 6, but that's for another day).
To see, touch, hear, smell and taste all that there is physically available to us. We are able to hug our families and friends, smell the popcorn in a movie theater, taste the latest IPA at a Craft Brewery or hear the beat of the music to our core when we attend a concert.
Every one of these things, and so many more, is taken from us right now and the size of our world and experiences has shrunk to our own walls of whatever shelter we are under.
***
My gratitude lists have changed now.
They aren't the April flowers outside my window anymore.
(Especially since it's freaking snowing)
They are all the things I miss.
The energy and buzz of a packed restaurant on a Friday night, the noise of the kids playing in the water at the beach while I'm lying on a blanket taking in the sun, browsing the bookstore with a latte in hand and taking my time in the grocery store, reading every label because there is no fear of needing to hurry.
We feed off the energy of other people we are around and places we go to that make us feel good, and without those, our energy reserves are taxed and our mental states are amplified.
We need to refuel and fill up, fill up, fill up - and there is a loss similar to grief for many of us during this time, who are missing what fuels us the most.
***
I'm better today.
My own self awareness has evolved so much that I can see the tsunami (most times) before it hits now, and I try to recluse and brace myself until it's over, noticing that the waves disappear much faster than they used to.
I also don't doubt I will get through it.
I know I am able.
This time matters.
This moment matters.
For the earth.
For all of us.
I really do believe that.
But some days are hard, and many are struggling with the isolation and restrictions in place, and may need a reminder that they are not alone.
So we need to keep asking the people we know need help, the people who we think are the strongest, and all those in between -
How are you?
Because even if they are fine today, tomorrow they might not be.
And that "how are you" provides the gift of connectivity our humanity so desperately craves during this time of social distancing and isolation.
***
This post is my "how are you" right back to all those who have been kind and thoughtful to me, and to all those out there who need it.
May you be granted strength in a time of struggle,
peace in a time of fear, and
love in this time of crisis.
🙏
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