The last thing I remember before the pandemic got really bad and I started working from home was giving a presentation to executives about why my company needed to have a resource group focused on disability. It was approved and I was so happy.
A few days later, I got sent home in the middle of the day. I was working from home. And then I didn’t have a job for a couple weeks. And then I did, and then another undisclosed event happened. And then George Floyd was murdered. It’s a blur from then until now, when yet two more undisclosed events are happening. It’s all a blur really, five months of a blur. Of me getting up every morning and not getting dressed, buying random plants, adopting a kitten, taking not one but two breaks from school, and me questioning everything about what I know to exist.
I feel very sad every day, like most people do I’m sure. But when I do go outside – to the grocery store or the occasional office trip – I feel terrified. I feel exhausted. I feel so paranoid until I’m safely back in my house, showered and clothes changed of course, because I can’t sit anywhere or touch anything until I wash the gunk off, even though the gunk is invisible. I wash my masks often. Some are more comfortable than others.
There are so many things going on in my world – most of which I can’t write about right now – and still, it is a blur. So many good things to look forward to, and some things to… not. I read my first book in months. I haven’t been able to focus on an entire book but I finally got through one. I am now reading Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer. I’ve only read the first few pages but it is so, so good. Twilight fans rejoice. There are little things to look forward to. They are big things, really, but seem like little things. An apartment, a new Twilight book after who knows how many years. Dee and I are going to the beach on Sunday. We are bringing the kitten, whom we named Nezuko, after my favorite character in Demon Slayer. She gets carried in a box in the anime and my Nezuko gets carried in a backpack. She is a sweet little kitten. Loves to play, loves to eat. Loves to sleep, and hates waking up. Me too, little girl, me too.
My friends and I keep saying, it’s going to get better, it has to get better. And then a bomb goes off somewhere. We get bad news. Somebody we love dies. There’s a leak in the kitchen, whatever. The little things and big things are all big things because none of us know how much more we can take of this.
I just want you to know that as bad as it gets, even if it gets worse, I’m here with you and I’m here for you. We’re strong and we can get through this.