I’m finishing week three of quarantine during the COVID-19 outbreak. It has been a difficult few weeks. I know i”m not the only one who feels this way.
It’s not about the isolation. I’m an introvert. I actually appreciate the opportunity to stay in without feeling like I’m missing out on some fundamental aspect of the human experience.
Rather, I feel paralyzed by what’s happening in the world.
Hundreds of thousands, soon millions, are falling ill. People are dying. Businesses are failing. The unemployment rate (and its attendant economic issues) is rising rapidly. The scale of this crisis is just becoming clear, and even Our Dear Leader appears to be coming to grips with the magnitude of suffering this will cause.
I’m not along in feeling the crushing weight of reality this month. I can’t concentrate for more than a few hours. My work, which I can do from home, feels pointless. TV and music feel like distractions. Creating art, whether painting, poetry, or whatever else, doesn’t fill me with the same sense of purpose. Cooking, cleaning, and planning our garden are manageable, though my energy for them is limited.
But that all makes sense. We’re in a time where our usual activities have been stripped of meaning. We still carry residual habits of American life with us, yet the context in which those habits exist has changed. Now, the voices that tell us to be productive clash with the voices that tell us to be safe and take car. We’re balancing capitalism with survival.
The weirdest part is that our identities, the identities that we’ve built up for ourselves, are so dependent on the way things were that they often struggle to adapt to the way things are.
I’ve felt that struggle lately. Especially as an artist and creative.
I theorize that this time inside is an opportunity to get more work done—work that often gets put on hold for social gatherings, workouts, and fancy date nights. I tell myself that I can get ahead. I can pursue passion projects. I can take on more work.
But I can’t. I’m still a human. I have human needs. And in this time, my needs have changed.
In the last week, I’ve found a few things that help me deal with what I can only describe as grief and heartbreak about the ongoing loss of life and livelihood on a global scale. I’m not suggesting these will work for everyone. They barely work for me. But they’re a start.
- Work less. Your personal and emotional wellbeing come first. Don’t think about what you “should” do—think about what you can do.
- Use your hands. Bake. Cook. Craft. Create. Clean. Fix things. Repurpose things. Recycle things. Establish a connection with the tangible things in your life. This is a simple way to ground yourself.
- Meet basic needs. Until quarantine, I did intermittent fasting, avoided certain foods, worked long hours, and so on. Now, I eat what I want, when I want. I take more naps. I keep as comfortable as possible. It helps.
- Look to the future. Most of the doom and gloom will come in the next few years. More people will die. More people will go hungry. Things will be measurably worse. But there’s a chance that we’ll learn from this. That our healthcare system will change, or that people will realize the value that laborers bring to the market. I look at stories about how people come together, support each other, and care for strangers.
- Try to help every day. This is the biggest one. Each day, I try to do something to help someone. I’m not on the front lines saving lives. I’m not developing a treatment or a vaccine. But I’m writing letters to pharmaceutical companies to approve treatments for compassionate use cases. I’m helping my friends start their websites and online businesses. I’m donating to people who have lost their jobs and may lose their houses. I’m developing and disseminating form letters arguing for mortgage/rent/utility forbearance and the early release of minor, nonviolent offenders who have served the majority of their sentences. I don’t know if I’m staying afloat, but it feels right to reach for the hands of people who are going under.
- Forgive myself. I want to be able to do more. But I know that I’m still vulnerable, physically and economically. I know there’s a lot that I can’t do. I know that I won’t get as much done as I hoped I would. But I’m doing what I can. And when shit hits the fan—and it is hitting the fan—it’s okay to do less. The pandemic and its emotional toll is exhausting, and we all deserve a little bit of rest and self care. I forgive myself for not doing more (and for meeting my basic needs).
These have all been useful strategies. I’m sure that many people who are much smarter, more well-adjusted, and more experienced than I am have more wisdom on the subject.
But per item #5, I would like to share one thing. It’s the form letter I wrote to Gov. Kate Brown. Below the letter are instructions for how to send it to her office. Please feel free to copy, modify, or personalize it as you see fit.
Then, when you’re ready, jump through the hoops at this website to send it to her office: share your opinion with Kate Brown.
Form letter:
Dear Governor Brown,
To begin, I’d like to thank you for enacting your Stay Home, Save Lives campaign early, before the projected “point of no return.” That proactive leadership will keep Oregon safe and healthy, and I know I’m not alone in my appreciation there.
Now, I’m writing to urge you to continue action in the fight against COVID-19. Although staying home may slow the spread of the virus, it doesn’t offer the protections that many Oregonians need. Further action is required to stop its spread and prevent long-term economic fallout among Oregon’s most vulnerable communities.
First, with massive unemployment and the closure of many small businesses, people are struggling to make ends meet. Expanded unemployment and the $1,200 federal check we’ll receive won’t be enough for any extended period. The need to pay for housing—and the threat of losing one’s home after the moratorium of residential evictions is lifted—forces many businesses and employees to continue in increasingly unsafe conditions.
At this point, there is global precedent for suspending mortgage, rent, and utilities payments. Other countries are doing it. Other states are considering it. Please push for similar forbearance in Oregon.
Second, Oregon’s correctional facilities are at particularly high risk for COVID-19 transmission. These people cannot adequately practice social distancing, and medical support for them would be woefully inadequate in the event of an outbreak.
There are many nonviolent offenders in Oregon’s minimum-security facilities. Especially at-risk inmates and those serving time for minor crimes should have their sentences altered or commuted in some way. Early release of low-level offenders and those who have served the majority of their time is now a humanitarian necessity.
Oregon’s case count is growing, and fast. Now is not the time to wait. Please continue your proactive approach to combating COVID-19 and its attendant economic issues by considering mortgage and rent forbearance and the early release of some nonviolent offenders. The cost of inaction could be catastrophic.
Thank you for your time,
[YOUR NAME]