This pandemic has combined two of my greatest fears: (1) a (possible) global breakdown of civilization in which I am totally useless, become a burden on others, and then perish in a moldy cave, and (2) losing my parents prematurely. My entire family is made of healthcare providers, and my parents are located in one of the U.S. epicenters. The first few weeks of this pandemic were filled with profound, overwhelming anxiety and fear. I already deal with generalized anxiety and depression in the best of situations, much less during an unprecedented pandemic during which we are led by an absolute moron. I was gripped by the news and couldn’t look away. The fear and anxiety eventually morphed into sheer, abject rage at everything – the government, the president, spring breakers, anti-vaxxers, travelers, this situation, the helplessness, the racism, the mask/ventilator shortage, the danger my family and others are in. It felt good for a while, felt righteous and real and true and valid in a way that my feelings don’t normally feel. But it was also exhausting, and I alternated between rage, fear, and guilt.
Now that we’re over a month into this, I’ve started to come to grips with the situation. I remind myself that my family, friends and loved ones are taking all the precautions they can, and that I am doing everything I can. I’ve substantially cut down on my news intake, limiting myself to reading NY Times in the morning and an update in the afternoon. I don’t read any news in the evening or before bed. I write in my journal almost every day, and try to meditate before bed every night. I go to video therapy once a week. I vent to friends. When things get really bad and I start spiraling, I take an anti-anxiety medication in addition to my daily antidepressant. I spend a lot of time planning what I’m going to cook. I have scheduled weekly zoom calls with friends and family. I practice cognitive behavioral therapy and mindfulness. I spend a lot of time texting with friends and family. I try to go to bed at a reasonable hour.
