It’s been a strange year.
If you have an anxiety disorder, 2020 has been a year where the voice in your head that traditionally tells you that it’s just paranoia has gone mute. He’s instead given up and sighed “the other guy is right, sorry.” And you have to live with that. There really is something to fear. How odd.
It’s been almost impossible for me to write about my life as a result. I’m in the same purgatory as all of you. My life is on hold in a way it hasn’t been since 2007-2008. Oh I’m still working mind you. I’m working harder than ever. I think I’m honestly at the best I’ve ever been at my job. But I’m doing so from home and that’s a surreal experience.
In some ways I’m lucky. Arkansas never went as hard as other states on lockdown. I wear a mask in public but I’ve still hit up Barnes and Noble and Ollie’s. I even ran to Pine Bluff to buy a great book. My routine isn’t as disrupted as it could be.
I’m still struggling though. I had a breakdown last week. It was a fair one. I was overworked, my cat died, and I hadn’t had any release in months. I don’t get to go to the movies. There’s one theater in town and they don’t show anything I MUST see. I’m overdone mentally.
And there’s that idea. That pervasive idea this is real. It is real of course. I know people who’ve recovered. I know people who have it now. I know people online who’ve had family become victims. COVID-19 is real. And I don’t get the safety of saying it’s not. And god the things I keep hearing. It really takes a toll. Yeah things are bad. Have. Patience. I want to scream.
So now I come to an unlikely place. I’m taking a vacation. In the midst of a pandemic I’m leaving my house. I’m not going to a mass group setting. A few bookstores. A few liquor stores. Mostly going on a drive. But I need it. It’ll only be a day and end here in LR. but it’ll be nice.
And so I go on.