Today I’m not okay

This morning I found myself counting back to when life when from “normal” to, well, to whatever is happening right now:

3 weeks since the cascade of cancellations began.

3 weeks since the kids were in school.

3 weeks since my team was together at the office.

3 weeks since we were allowed to stand closer than 6 feet from friends and neighbors.

3 weeks since I brought our neighbor out for her first mountain bike lesson.

3 weeks since I felt safe shopping for groceries.

5 weeks since I’m been able to hug my mom and dad (they went away at the end of February and came back during the lockdown).

May 4th is the date we are looking forward to with hope. Hope the kids will go back to school. Hope for a limited sports schedule. Hope we will return to our office. Hope for some semblance of normal.

I recognize this hope may be irrational, and that likely the cancellations will keep coming. And most days I’m fine. We are lucky. But as I wrote the list above, I realized I’m not as fine as I thought.

I’m worried. I have “big” non-specific worries about our neighbors, our clients, and the businesses in our community. I have specific worries about the long term impacts on our children’s lives and emotional health, on our businesses, and on our lives.

I’m irritated. With the piles of stuff growing in our living room. At my kids for not helping enough around the house. At my husband, who gets to leave the house to work out of his shop. At strangers yelling at friends for wearing a mask. At people who are still gathering, even in the woods.

I’m particularly irritated with whoever scheduled the Plexaderm commercial which plays on my local news station – Every. Single. Damn. Day. Seriously. Please stop the run or make a new commercial.

And I’m sad. I didn’t realize how much I need people. I didn’t realize how close to the surface the tears were until I started writing this, and they decided to make an appearance.

Today I’m not okay. And that’s okay.

10 thoughts on “Today I’m not okay

  1. Oh Kristin. I hear you.

    Unfortunately, everything I want to write right now to commiserate (including the huge MESS in my living room!) will just end up sounding like first world problems and will be antithetical to the idea of a lockdown (which we are REALLY in here in Paris: we can basically only leave our house once per day, for an hour, for very specific reasons (like groceries), and we can only go 6/10 of the way away from our house in any direction)…the lockdown is important for everyone’s health, I get it, but it’s still hard in lots of ways on our bodies, minds, and spirits.

    So I will just say that my tears join yours today, as I look outside longingly at the beautiful sunshine that we cannot go outside and enjoy.

    Bisous from Paris

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Talking to parents on Twitter the other day, we recognized that what the kids were sad about (canceled sports, missing milestones) may seem trivial compared to everything else. We decided we needed to let the kids “own” that pain and sorrow, and today I’m giving myself (and you) the same permission. Hugs to you from Boston. Stay safe and healthy.


  2. Wait, there are still local news stations?

    Be well, friend. As Ken Clouber tells us, “You’re better than you think you are. You can do more than you think you can.”

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I go from angry to scared to weepy to feeling blessed in a matter of like 30 seconds. It’s a roll a coaster of emotions. I’m and extrovert who does not enjoy hanging out in my house. This. Is. Hard. Like you, I need people. I miss people.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s the simple moments with people that are getting to me – the chance encounters. The short conversations. The hugs. The funny thing is I’ve probably talked to more people in the last week because we have made the effort. When we could, we didn’t. I hope to not forget that when this is “over.” Hugs.


  4. It just stinks, all of it. There’s no way around it. My biggest struggle is with everyone telling everyone else what to do. And no matter how many guidelines one follows, there are a new set daily or more often, and on top of that, we’re all supposed to avoid getting and assume we’re infected and also stay inside for three weeks or three months or three years and somehow all that time we’re both infected and contagious and also in danger of getting it. Um, wow. Also, I’m ready to smack (with a fake hand on a long pole) anyone who tries to tell me that it’s “only” this much longer. No, it’s not. Yesterday they told us school was cancelled through the end of the year (mid-May), and while I’m not surprised, it still stinks. And then immediately someone tried to say “oh, well it’s ‘only’…” and I’m like no–let’s be honest–we’re stuck with each other in this every tightening circle of rules and admonitions about when and if it’s ok to leave your house to run or buy groceries ever (certainly not to go to Jo-Ann’s to get fabric for a mask because don’t ya know, ya need a mask to go to Jo-Ann’s and if you actually believed the weeks of recommendations from medical professionals to not wear a mask because you’re taking one away from someone who needed it and they’re not very effective, well, you must be stupid because obviously everyone should have been buying fabric [while STAYING AT HOME!!!!] for this moment). Seriously, I can’t even right now. The reality stinks, first world problems or not. I lost $100 on a vacation I didn’t get to take, and for following all recommendations for the last three weeks, I’m now hearing that I should definitely assume I’m infected, contagious, and should wear mask “outside” (including running? walking? but it’s not effective if it’s wet which it will be if I run with it because my nose drips continually due to pollen), and also be totes fine with this for the next several weeks/months/whatever. No. I can’t even. I’m not fine and frankly, it’s ok to not be fine for a while. (Yes, I’ll be better after I go for my unmasked but socially-distance long run on trails close to my house but not trails that are too crowded. Egads.) I wish you peace–and peace to the rest of us too.


    1. Thank you for this – I both laughed and cringed. If you start randomly smacking people I think you should post the smacks to instgram. It would be gold.

      And thank goodness for those runs, right?


  5. Feeling the same over here in Australia. Each day brings new challenges and fears. We will get through this.


  6. Remind yourself that this is only an inconvenience, although a very big one, for a short period of your life. You can and will get through it! Don’t let others annoy you. Everyone is doing the best they can at that time. Our school (all of them in the state) is out for the school year. This weekend I noticed a group of boys not knowing/recognizing the space guides on the ground that the walk-up ice cream shop had put out for them. For e-learning teachers all around….remind these kids to look for the marks. Even though the group wasn’t practicing social distancing, the people around them were. Empathy goes a long way. Virtual hugs to you. We are all rowing the same boat.


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