And when I say that, I mean when I'm alone.
When I'm around other people at work or even at the post office or grocery store - those little interactions with people occasionally result in a smile or laugh. The moment is nice and very much appreciated, but the temporary high felt around others dwindles to nothing, and I feel... nothing.
Every once in a while, I feel like my interactions with people are more reflex responses versus genuine ones. Like when the doctor would take that rubber mallet and tap your knee to see if your leg twitches or kicks. That's involuntary - testing nerve function.
I feel like covid has messed up my emotional function - like if you took that rubber mallet and tapped me, the only response you may get is "Why are you hitting me with that mallet?"
I've been a bit of a chatterbox all my life, usually talking with everyone - telling stories and jokes, making people laugh. Back in my younger years, whenever I was quiet, people would wonder what was wrong with me. Most of the time, I was just tired or had nothing to say, but for some reason, they took my quietness as "What's wrong with you?" And the answer would be, "Nothing."
Throughout my life, I've felt the need to fill empty spaces with something - cluttering up my universe with stuff leaving no pockets of silence. I didn't really care for silence. Even when I went to sleep, music used to soothe me to bed, but now the chaotic insomnia beastie has moved into my head and won't leave. I haven't found a solution that will kick that little beastie out... sometimes it goes away or into hibernation for a bit, but then it remembers me and has to come back and remind me a decent night's sleep is something I will never have again.
I'm hoping that's not true, but so far, that beastie is still lurking around.
When left to my own devices, whether at work (where I'm mostly working alone and only talking with team members and co-workers through computer chat services and emails), it feels like I don't feel much of anything. I'm just walking through a fog of "gee, what am I going to do today?" Most of my interactions are work-mode ones - like people asking me a work-question, and I reply with a work-answer. There's a little bit of socializing, but it's electronic versus face-to-face.
There are work stresses and frustrations as well, but those would be the same (more or less) even if we weren't dealing with a fucking pandemic.
I still get to see my friends and family on Zoom, Google Meetups, and FaceTime calls, but yeah - it's not the same thing. I have gotten to see some friends in person, but that's been so few and far between (very few and very far), I miss it when it's over.
When I was younger, I hated feeling lonely. I've felt a variety of different "lonely-s" throughout my life, and I hate every single one of them.
When I got older, I embraced alone-time once in a while - me and my omnivert-ness. Yes, I am a social butterfly, but there are moments where I don't want to be around anyone. It's usually nothing anyone has ever done. It's just me not feeling very social or social at all.
As time goes on, the days seem to bleed together, and I'm losing sense of time and sanity. Since shelter-in-place started last year, my work schedule changed, and even though the change is nothing drastic, my brain occasionally will forget what day it is leaving me to evaluate everything in my head to see if I missed anything. Usually, I haven't - which is a good thing. And yes, I know - I'm not the only one who is experiencing "covid-brain" (for lack of a better term), but with work and home and family and everything else, I feel like a lethargic blobby-blob that wants to do nothing but blob at home alone.
That is so sad, right?
If it's not something I have to do - work, laundry, groceries, etc - then my body wants to shut down, curl up in a bottle, and fall in and out of consciousness. My hobbies and passions have taken a backseat to this "I don't think I really give a fuck" feeling, and I really want it to stop.
I've seen videos and read articles about people who had covid and survived it but are now "long haulers" (one of a few terms I've heard) where they now have issues after being sick which are similar to or somehow adjacent to the symptoms they had when infected with covid. I haven't seen anyone talk about the emotional side of covid. I mean, are there people like me who aren't infected but are still messed up in some way or another? Mentally? Emotionally?
I don't know anymore. I know I want it to stop. I know it starts with me, and I get that, but it just feels the world is smothering me with a pillow... and more and more of me is letting it.
Okay - I think that's enough from me now.
Later my lovelies.
Have Goodness!
Rae
No comments:
Post a Comment