I never lived through a pandemic. So I don’t know how I am supposed to feel. The sadness I have conquered seems compounded between my chronic illness, my general depression, feeling lost, and the pandemic.
I’ve spent a year quietly managing how I have become undone.
In tandem, I am filled with hope, sadness, joy, comfort, fear, and resolve. The gumbo of emotions I waddle through daily is a bit taxing. As a parent, your focus is to maintain your sanity, have a stiff upper lip and make sure the kids and the pets are okay. So I push, I push through, I take on projects, I listen to music, and I do everything to take my mind away from the fact that I’m kinda scared and I am facing this alone.
Everyday, is a new day. Some days I cry when I get out of bed. I am thankful I am still here but I am overwhelmed. I don’t know if I need to be held or I need to be heard or both. I do know I am just holding on until we come out of this.
I’m becoming undone. Slowly. With precision. I just make it look fun.