Life Right Now

The last couple of weeks have been very emotional for me, as I’m sure it has been for everyone. I’m angry, upset, and sad that we live in a world that is filled with so much racism, violence, and hate. News and social media are flooded with updates on more violence and police brutality. I can’t help but read up on everything—every death, every act of violence reported, every story, and people’s opinions of events, and then getting emotional and angry. I think we all have a lot of learning and unlearning to do. I want to help in any way that I can by sharing the news, signing petitions, donating to the Black Lives Matter movement, and also protesting (this was my first time). Change is needed and these protests have already made a difference over the last 3 weeks. Amongst all this chaos, it’s beautiful to see people come together to fight for change.

However, a part of me also feels helpless. The first weekend of the protests were a little scary because I live in the middle of where a lot of the violence and looting erupted. This caused curfews to be placed on the city for 5 days, storefronts on every street to be boarded up, and the National Guard to be called in. With a global pandemic, civil unrest (rightfully so), and 3 months of lockdown, my anxiety was soaring. It was hard to focus on work yet work was busier than ever. I wished there was more conversation at the digital “office”. A part of me was addicted to keeping up with all the news updates, but at the expense of my own mental health. I thought it was my duty to keep up with everything and share it on my social media channels even though it made me feel enraged and emotional all the time. I thought that if I didn’t do those things, if I didn’t immerse myself in all of the negative things happening in the world, then it would mean that I didn’t care. So I was not allowing myself a “break” from the news. I was not allowing myself to feel any type of joy. But what good was that doing to anyone, including myself? Can I still learn, listen, and share without drowning in all of the negative news?

I had my 2nd anxiety attack last week (my first one was at the start of the lockdown). With the world around me feeling like it’s falling apart and living mostly in self-isolation for months, I have felt really alone and sometimes, scared in my own apartment. I’ve been very emotional in the last 2 weeks and I’ve cried a lot. Like the rest of the world, I’m probably just feeling more vulnerable and sensitive to everything because I’m worn down by all of the problems we are facing right now—the pandemic, the lockdown, social distancing, the downfall of our economy, and also the recent protests that have shed more light on the injustice and racism that still exists in the U.S. today. I’m worried about my future. I’m worried about the world. I feel disconnected from people. Everyone is struggling mentally right now and dealing with their own problems so it’s hard to seek consolation from anyone.

Recently, a particular childhood memory had been reoccurring in my thoughts and making me feel very emotional. I was maybe about 5 years old, living in Stockton, CA as a child. My older sister was in school. My younger sister was next door, at the neighbor’s. My father was around, even though he was usually absent during my childhood. My mother urged me to go to my neighbor’s with my younger sister. But I didn’t want to. At 5 years old, I felt too proud to go to my neighbor’s. I didn’t want to feel like a burden. I didn’t want them to think I needed them. I felt embarrassed and maybe even ashamed. My parents needed to leave. I think they were going to work. They got into the car and backed out from the parking lot of the apartment complex. I cried. I cried while running after their car, yelling out for them and begging them not to leave me. And then, they were gone. I ran back into the apartment, sat on the couch with tears streaming down my face. Then I saw a rat run across the living room and I screamed and cried even harder. I don’t remember what happened after that. Maybe I watched cartoons and eventually stopped crying and fell asleep. I don’t know. I was always a scared child. I’m a scared adult too, actually. I’ve always remembered this moment from my childhood but for some reason, it had been replaying in my head a lot during the first week of the protests in LA.

Then I realized the parallel. I live in an apartment by myself. I’ve felt very alone and scared here during the pandemic and the initial violent protests. There is an annoying squirrel that I’m scared of also that runs back and forth across my balcony rail, and sometimes he even comes up to my balcony door. I’ve had this squirrel problem for some time but I have never been home as much as I have been now due to the pandemic. I’ve named him Stuart. Sometimes Stuart crawls up my screen door, sprawled out like spiderman. One time, he climbed up my balcony chair, stared at me, and then jumped towards me but hit the window and fell back. I don’t like Stuart. He’s aggressive. He startles me sometimes when I’m out there and I run back into my apartment. I just realized that the squirrel is symbolic of the rat from my childhood memory!

Also, I had spoken to my ex-boyfriend the weekend of the first violent protests in my neighborhood, and I broke down and cried to him. I broke down a lot that first week. I was so upset and scared. He offered to come over to be with me, and he even said I could stay at his place if I was too scared at my apartment by myself. It was a nice gesture but I said no, even though it would have been nice to not be alone and to be comforted by someone who I knew cared about me. Instead, I cried all week on my own. Then I realized HE was playing the role of my neighbor from my childhood memory! Granted, there are other complications with seeing an ex-boyfriend, but I was also too proud. I didn’t want to appear needy and weak, and maybe I was even a little embarrassed that I was falling apart emotionally.

The current circumstances of the world seem to have brought me back to how I felt when I was 5 years old—abandoned, neglected, isolated, scared, and alone. I don’t blame my mother. She survived a genocide in Cambodia and an abusive marriage with my father. She was learning a new language, adapting to living in a new country as an immigrant and refugee, going to community college, and working 3 different jobs to support us. She had very little resources then and we were poor. But I was a little girl, scared at home and scared of the world and scared of my father.

It was very powerful for me to realize all of these parallels. I don’t have to relive my past though. I can change my present. I can change the trajectory of my future. I don’t have to be completely alone and isolated all the time. Even though it is challenging to connect with people right now during a time of social distancing, I can still make more of an effort. It might take a little work to find the right people to connect with, since everyone is going through their own issues right now and may not have the capacity to be as supportive as I might need.

But it’s not impossible, I hope. I had this problem a few weeks ago and sought out the company of a couple of friends (honoring social distancing guidelines), thinking it would make me feel better to see people, but then I actually felt worse after seeing them. I didn’t feel like I could share with them all of my feelings. I felt judged. I didn’t feel understood. It didn’t seem like they wanted to engage in the type of conversation that I was craving with another human being. Seeing them just reinforced my feeling of being alone and made me feel even more depressed. However, I can’t let that one attempt, and a couple others, deter me. I just have to keep trying (and brush off the disappointment and maybe even rejection) and be open to reaching out more, asking for help, and accepting help. I am so grateful that I have my Zoom appointments with my therapist every other week.

Even though some stores, restaurants, and businesses have started to reopen and more people are out, the pandemic still exists. Masks are required to be worn everywhere. It’s such a strange time we live in. A part of me is confused as to how to proceed with my life. I feel anxious about the transition back to some sort of normalcy. Maybe what I’m feeling is social anxiety because I’ve gotten so accustomed to quarantining. I’ve seen people gathering together in groups and expanding their social loop. And this makes me feel like I should be doing the same versus continuing to practice social distancing and being alone. I think a part of me is envious because I don’t know if I’m ready to start socializing again or even where to begin.

I’ve lost touch with people during the lockdown. Or maybe I was never really in touch with them in the first place? I just don’t feel like many people are available to me anymore for a few different reasons. Everyone has different comfort levels with seeing people during the pandemic. A lot of people my age have partners and families and don’t really feel a need to expand their loop beyond that or they are just dealing with their own challenges at the moment. In the past, my outlets for socializing, when my partnered friends weren’t available, would be to join activity groups or attend different networking events. Right now, it’s not really an option though because of the pandemic. I guess my fear is that if I try to find my way back to “normal,” I will realize that the pandemic wasn’t the reason I was alone. I may have been alone even before. I think I’ve felt alone for most of my life. And I need to change that. I don’t have to live my life like that little 5 year old girl, crying on the couch by herself.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I found different ways of entertaining myself—practicing ukelele, taking long walks, trying lots of new recipes, organizing, yoga. Over time though, I have felt less and less motivated to do any of those things. But I think, along with making more of an effort to reach out and connect with people, I also need to get creative again and explore newer ways of sparking joy for myself. It’s okay to seek joy. It’s okay to take breaks from the news and social media. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care about the injustice that is happening around the world.

I made doctor appointments this week now that offices are accepting patients again. I have an annual physical scheduled, a physical therapy session, and an upcoming appointment with an Ear, Nose, Throat specialist that I had been putting off for over a year. I also have a massage scheduled for this Friday. My body has been so tense and tight, and a massage will definitely help with all of the stress that I’ve been feeling and holding onto.

I’m healing old broken wounds. I’m falling apart so that I can put myself back together. I’m learning how to take care of me. And that is a journey in itself.