Hello all! It has been a while since I’ve even logged into my blog site. Life has been interesting to say the least. Change after change with zero consistency. I have not been okay. I was able to finally reset my password and gain access back here and now I will share a little about my world. (please excuse any typos. I am just writing to get this all out of my system)
March 20th. It started off like a normal day in salon, except we had switched to a 3 man rotation. Appointment times were taking a little longer than usual due to the excessive caution we were all taking amidst the COVID-19 scare. It wasn’t documented here yet, but we were cautious. I remember the anxiety and fear I had with every person that sat in my chair… not knowing if I had been exposed to it or not. I couldn’t take the thought of being a silent carrier. I love my guest and co-workers. The last thing I would want to do is compromise anyone’s well being. Now, factor in that I also have 3 auto immune disorders *anxiety intensifies*. I was working on my last person of the day when I found out someone at one of our local hospitals had passed away from the virus. I never felt so helpless. I knew life was about to change, but wasn’t sure as to what degree. I immediately posted a status that I would not be working until further notice, and I haven’t.
Week 1: The first week of staying home mostly consisted of playing Minecraft and cooking whatever I could come up with to keep me busy. The grocery store was still a normal experience for the most part, I just added a little extra sanitizer to my routine.
Week 2: I had dirtied up most of my dishes and ran out of stuff to cook. Bills were needing to be paid soon and I didn’t have enough money to cover them all. Although this was my second week at home, the previous two weeks of work had been slow. The numbers were rising and I checked them obsessively. At this time, I wasn’t sure if I had the virus or not. I had run a fever and had most of the symptoms, but didn’t want to go get tested. Later in the week, I began to recovery but fear had gotten the best of me. My sleep schedule now consist of waking up at 2 p.m. to start my day. Who am I?
Week 3: Thanks to the generosity of human kind, I was able to pay my bills and buy groceries. I fell straight into a downward spiral of depression and no routine. Life felt fake. I didn’t feel like I really existed anymore. This was not a good week. At the grocery store I went to reach for a gallon of milk and stood there shaking… At this point, I had cried every time I went to the grocery store. Don’t mind me, just having a mental breakdown. It’s fine.
Week 4: Acceptance started to kick in. This is the new normal now. Everyone is trying to help those in need. The numbers are slowing down. I am able to breathe a little better. I am still not on a normal schedule, but like… who is?
Week 5: Hey. Daylight is cool. I have stopped checking the numbers. I am in a lot better state mentally and physically. I am getting out to walk and enjoying a little sense of normality. I am flooded with gratitude from everyone who has reached out to help me. Life seems brighter.
Throughout this whole process, I have kept in mind that it isn’t just my town, it isn’t just my state, and it isn’t just my country. We, as a world, are unified in suffering. Never in my life have I felt like we all can relate on such a level. I am grateful for my health when so many have lost their lives. I am grateful for communication with loved ones. I do not take hugs for granted. I miss “normal” but I also realize that we are not coming out of this the same. I will be more grateful.
I will end on this note…
SOB: God I look to You – Bethel