Coronacoaster (noun): the ups and downs of a person’s mood, or life generally, during the coronavirus pandemic.
Some people experience motion sickness and avoid amusement park thrill rides. I’m one of those people. I’m also a person who has a reoccurring dream when I wrestle control of vehicles headed in a dangerous trajectory to avoid catastrophe or death. Those began as a child, when from the backseat of the car, I leaped to the front seat to grab the steering wheel from my parents. Oh, My!
Yes, I’m on the coronacoaster and I want to get off — or seize control!
Photo Credit: Adobe
Yesterday, we received the first measurable accumulation of snow of the season, with additional snow forecast for today and this evening. Last night, I dreamt I was on the Interstate Highway, and the far-left lane was not plowed and I was about to get stuck, unless I put the vehicle in reverse and tried to navigate the snow drift and change lanes. Yes, dreams are often puzzles or ciphers to be solved.
Like the rest of the world, I’ve been riding the coronacoaster, experiencing the alternating ups and downs, the hope and despair, the light and the darkness of the almost 11 months of the COVID-19 pandemic. For those of us in the U.S., it’s also been an unpredictable, seemingly out of control, post-presidential electoral college democratic disaster in the making.
Yesterday, we received good news on both fronts. The FDA approved the first COVID-19 vaccines for distribution and The Supreme Court closed the final door on Trump’s groundless attempts to overturn the election.
Dispatches from the Hideout
I began my Dispatch from the Hideout as a one-off essay in July 2017 to describe my reaction to events in the world and my need to retreat. I was also grieving the losses in my life, the most recent at the time was my mother’s death in 2016. I introduced the series as follows:
Now, before I go any further, it’s important that I share with you that my hideout is a virtual one. I don’t have a cabin in the woods, or a bunker in the basement, I only have my home, a 645 square foot apartment. It’s where I wake up in the morning, retreat at the end of the work day, hideout on the weekends when I’m writing or feeling introverted, and end my days, often falling asleep on the couch watching TV. Yeah, I’m that girl. I live alone and most days I’m happy with that choice.
I discovered that the Dispatch from the Hideout metaphor was a useful vehicle for me to express innermost feelings, like grief and gratitude, moments when I faced my shadow, or questioned my choices, plus the times when I reflected on the larger world of which I’m simply a member, navigating things outside of my control, yet still have an impact my heart, mind, and spirit. The Hideout metaphor served me and soon became a series.
Circling back to the end of February and the COVID-19 pandemic when I was forced to spend more time in the Hideout to protect my physical health, safer-at-home, I soon discovered that the isolation also affected my mental. emotional, and spiritual health. When the Wisconsin Historical Society launched the Wisconsin Historical Society COVID-19 Journal Project, I was all in and to date, including this essay, I’ve contributed twelve installments about my experience as I shelter-in-place, plus the three musings that preceded them.
Links to the complete Dispatches from the Hideout series can be accessed at the end of this essay.
Riding the Coronacoaster
When people ask me how I’m doing, my response is often, “I’m riding the coronoacoaster.” Like most everyone else, I have good days and bad days, hopeful days and days filled with despair. The threat of COVID-19 is much greater than its health risks. It impacts our mental, emotional, spiritual, and financial well-being. For the most part, I’m luckier than many other people at this point in time. I have a home, a job, food in my pantry, the ability to pay my bills, access to healthcare, my sobriety, and the love and affection of friends and family. I’m grateful.
On the flip side, I live alone. Most days I like my solitary life. It’s taken me years to learn how to live well alone and some days I strive to protect that solitude. I post this excerpt from yesterday’s weekly Facebook, TGIF Update:
I’m pretty much a creature of habit, which now, 10 months into the pandemic, means my safer-at-home quarantine routines are pretty much hard-wired.
My sleep schedule is impacted. I wake up early at 3 a.m. and turn on CNN, and require a nap at some point. I miss my friends and family, and social media, Zoom, and other substitutes are not sufficient or satisfying for someone who values hugs and affection. I’m cooking more, and housecleaning less as it keeps falling off my to-do list when I need to do it more often (Full disclosure: Kitchen and bathroom are kept clean though dust bunnies thrive and reproduce!).
I’m writing more about my life, which seems too self-focused, yet I’m detached from in-person interactions by design, to protect our health. I spend too much time paying attention to the news of the day and sometimes too much time commenting on it. My social media posts get wordy, since I have no one to talk to since I live alone. I’m an auditory person so I talk to myself and my plants. My plants, for the most part, are thriving.
My plants teach me to ‘lean into the light.’
Tips for Riding the Coronacoaster
From a Next Avenue article, Feel Like You Are on the Coronacoaster? You’re Not Alone here are some coping tips:
- Give yourself permission to be anxious. Joseph Tropper, a clinical therapist with Corewell, which offers virtual mental health presentations, says, “Acknowledging anxiety is always the first step to overcoming it. Give yourself some time to process it.”
- Reach out for support from others. We all need help sometimes, especially during times of crisis. Don’t allow social distancing to make you emotionally distant from friends and family.
- Don’t beat yourself up. We might feel guilty for being down or complaining about little inconveniences when people are suffering worse than we are. Saltz says, “We have all experienced some level of disappointment and it’s okay to be sad as long as you maintain perspective.”
- Pick your “sharers” wisely. Read the room. For example, don’t complain about having too much work to a friend who has just lost her job.
- Don’t judge others. Again, we are all in different boats in this storm. You don’t know what another person is going through or what their circumstances are. Practice patience and empathy for everyone from your best friend to the cashier at the market.
- Filter your news sources. Tropper suggests going on a “media diet.” Pick a small list of reliable sources (including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and your local government) to rely on for news. Stay informed, but try not to ruminate. Set a time limit and avoid reading the news before bedtime.
- Do community service. Research shows that when you help others, you feel better too. Consider safe, hands-on volunteering opportunities, making a donation to your local food bank or giving blood.
- Stay healthy. Making nutritional food choices, staying hydrated, limiting alcohol consumption, exercising and practicing good sleep hygiene are essential for physical and emotional health.
- Create a routine. It’s easy to stay in your pajamas all day (or put on a work shirt for your Zoom call, but not shower). But it’s better to set up some type of schedule and stick to it.
- Look for the positives. Magill says, “It is important in this time of crisis to find what might be the seeds of opportunity. Sometimes the seeds are so small that they are difficult to see. But they are there and, if we want to get to the new normal in the best way possible, we need to cultivate these seeds to begin to accept the change which is to come.”
- Seek professional help. Don’t be afraid to talk to a physician or therapist if you are feeling depressed or overwhelmed. Most are offering both in-person and telehealth options.
The Holidays & Long Dark Winter Ahead
The sacrifice we’re asked to make during the pandemic is to let go of what we look forward to the most this time of year. With Christmas approaching (substitute your preferred ethnic, religious, or pagan holiday), we will be faced with the question. “How do we celebrate our traditions, from opening presents under the lights of the Christmas Tree with loved ones, or lighting the menorah candles during Hanukkah?”
The answer is simple, yet difficult. We must find ways to bring joy, light, and comfort to ourselves and to each other. As I was reminded during Thanksgiving, grief and gratitude go hand-in-hand. We remember friends and loved ones no longer with us in life, yet they live in our memory and stories, in the eyes, smiles, and laughter of the next generation. We must stand ready to support each other as we grieve our losses and celebrate our gains. “There are two ways to spread the light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” — Edith Wharton
As a person in recovery from both substances and behaviors that no longer serve me, I’ve learned to look at the glass half-full, to find the light in the darkness, and to practice H.A.L.T. (Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired), the basics of self-care. Rather than focus on our losses or despair, the darkness or debilitating grief, we’re tasked with spreading the light of hope and optimism, or reflecting it back, rather than denying that there’s no way out of these dark times.
At the end of the year, we toast our hopes and dreams for the New Year. Some people make resolutions too. I only have one this year, I resolve to live in 2021. To accomplish that, I must remain safer-at-home, socially distance, wear a mask in public, and get vaccinated when it’s my turn.
Stay positive, test negative!
Mixed Metaphors Oh, My! Dispatch from the Hideout Series
(In order of most recent to oldest)
Dispatch from the Hideout: Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah!
Dispatch from the Hideout: Love in a Pandemic 2.0
Dispatch from the Hideout: Omicron Edition
Dispatch from the Hideout: Pod Squad 2.0
Dispatch from the Hideout: Two Steps Back
Dispatch from the Hideout: My Post-Pandemic Life
Dispatch from the Hideout: Exit Strategy
Dispatch from the Hideout: A Shot in the Arm
Dispatch from the Hideout: Love in a Pandemic
Dispatch from the Hideout: The End Is Here!
Dispatch from the Hideout: Staycation Edition
Dispatch from the Hideout: Letter to Loved Ones
Dispatch from the Hideout: Quarantine Bubble Edition
Dispatch from the Hideout: What Was, What Will Be
Dispatch from the Hideout: Skin Hunger
Dispatch from the Hideout: Back to Life
Dispatch from the Hideout: Stirred Crazy
Dispatch from the Hideout: Home Alone Easter Holiday
Dispatch from the Hideout: Home Alone Edition
Dispatch from the Hideout: Pandemic Edition
Dispatch from the Hideout: Social Distancing
Dispatch from the Hideout: Premature Hibernation
Another Dispatch from the Hideout
Additional Reading & Listening
The Hidden ‘Fourth Wave’ of the Pandemic
Your look at living in the pandemic brought up some thoughts I been having. If I were reading a book with this time we are in being described, it would be full of drama and how fearful it was. We are living in it and there are changes, but what strikes me is how it can seem so normal. We cook, we do laundry, we watch TV and yet right outside our door is a terrible pandemic that as of this week is killing the same number as 9/11, everyday! The fear for me is more intellectual than emotional most of the time. Wear a mask, stay 6 feet apart wash your hands. Yes that makes sense. I know the emotions are there, but I think if I gave in and started weeping I might never stop. So it goes, we do our best and keep to the routine.