Category: self-help

If you’re reading this, there is a 50% chance I haven’t brushed my teeth today. 

Brushing my teeth used to be the last thing I did before I walked out the door. It was the signal to my brain that I had places to go and people to see.

Now, of course, that doesn’t happen often.

Consequently, my teeth are neglected. Amongst other things.

But that’s the new normal, right? The global transition from human interaction to self-isolation is now 5 months strong, and our daily lives have been seismically shifted forever. Or, at least, as far as the eye can currently see.

Regardless of our life circumstances – single, living alone with you demons, locked down with a new love, or married with 3, screaming kids – this corona coaster has forced everyone to face their own brand of sacrifice, sorrow and insanity.

And, redemption.

Here’s mine.

In 3 Phases.

Phase 1 – The Novelty

This is when the novel coronavirus had…well…novelty. Kind of like whenever there’s a Cat 5 hurricane barreling towards Florida. I can’t help but get excited. I’m all like, batten down the hatches! Shut the schools! This is gonna be a wild ride! Yeehaw!

So, I geared up. Got some masks. Bought some books. Prayed my two rolls of tp would see me through (they did not).

Activities such as one-person dance parties, zoom happy hours, and working in my “house dress” were still fun!

Heck, I even started running. I HATE running!

Grocery stores close at 5? No problem! Fat chance of going to a bar for the foreseeable future? All good! An indefinite delay with the already dismal dance that is dating in Miami? Perfect!

None of it mattered. I felt like I was doing my part for humanity and it felt great!

And boy, was I gonna take this quarantine by the balls and take time to self-improve!

I was practicing yoga in my living room, writing haiku poems about all the lovely little things I noticed, and actually reading the books I bought.

But then I started watching Handmaid’s Tale. Eerie parallels from the show’s dystopian world started to take shape and I was starting to feel stifled.

Also, I was running out of tp.

And so started my (lock)downfall.

Phase 2- The Mental Game

When the novelty of being trapped in my house for over a month wore off, and I started to find it harder to get out of bed, I moved into Phase 2 of the quarantine.

The mental game.

My daily mantra was… “this real life?” followed by “yeerp” and “not today, Satan!”

Sluggishly, I put on whatever house dress I hated the least that day, shuffled out of my pain cave, and greeted my roommate with some sort of grumble about it being the apocalypse.

I had lost my steam. My spirit was low. But, mostly, my motivation was missing.

I did my work at the bare minimum. And when I was done with my menial tasks for the day, I stared at the mountain of data waiting to be analyzed for my research.

And then I started drinking.

The truth is, I’ve never been a big boozer. But, it was the only consistent thing that seemed to lift my spirits. At the very least, it gave me an activity to do as I attempted to erase the long, uneventful corona days.

And then there was the shame.

In order to visit my best friend and her family, I was the only one enforced to wear a mask like the South Beach leper I’ve come to be treated as. (Yes, please guard your children from my COVID germs I’ve caught dancing by myself at Club Casa). I couldn’t even give my 4-year-old Godchild a real high-five to thank her for getting me a beer from the fridge and then carefully placing it 6-feet away from me.

Thanks, S! Auntie Holly loves you, even if you can’t see the smile on her face!

And then there was my soapbox.

I dragged that thing around and started mumbling incoherent things about violations to individual rights and how this collective effort was, for many, causing much greater suffering than would have otherwise occurred. I even exploited the distressing situations some of my students are living in to make my misguided point which was something along the lines of….

How long does this go on until we’re ALL f*cked?

And then I started badgering my abundantly cautious friends about a timeline.

“When will you feel safe enough to shake a hand? Eat at a restaurant? Take your mask off in public? When the government says so? CDC? When there’s a vaccination?! What’re metrics, man! ”

Most of my prudent friends (who also happen to be my smartest friends) didn’t have a clear answer. What they did have, that I was severely lacking, was a level head about their effort to help stop the spread of this vicious virus. They still held that it was their responsibility to do their part so other people didn’t die.

This is when I started to feel like an entitled fool.

(I also started watching Game of Thrones and realized, holy shit, nothing is worse – not even a global pandemic – than the fight for the Iron Throne!).

Thus, the shift to my current, more compliant, quarantine phase.

Phase 3 – The Acceptance

And now here we are.

Calmer. More accepting. And, definitely less angry.

Because, it is what it is.

And, making the small sacrifices, like wearing a mask (even though it reminds me, constantly, that I forgot to brush my teeth), is really no skin off my back.

I have a job, a beautiful apartment, my health (so far) and supportive friends and family. I’m privileged AF.

Do I still have dark corona days? Of course. These are what I like to call my TR days. It’s when I need the burly man voice of Tony Robbins to tell me to get the f*ck out of bed  and stop crying! Life is hard! But, you have a choice. Where your focus goes, your energy flows. Grow through what you go through. Responsibility is our ability to respond to the stress in our life. We have the power to give that stress its meaning. I can go on and on.

The point is this. I’m choosing a more positive perspective.

I’m getting my self-improvement game back on point. I bought a gratitude journal. I’m reading. I’m bossing out my dissertation. I’m stretching. I no longer have FOMO. I’m breathing. I took a road trip. I corona cruise in R’s coverable. I’m dancing. I go to the beach at sunset. I’m writing. I tutor amazing students on Saturdays. I occasionally cry. I drink less. I connect with friends and family more.

And, slowly but surely, my joy is resurfacing.

And, it’s all going to be OK.

These are wild times. So, stay well, my friends.

I gotta go brush my teeth…