2020 has proven to be the most challenging part of life’s obstacle course thus far. If our heads were stuck in the sand on any given issue — inequality, weak public health access, old wounds, systemic racism, dysfunctional relationships, incapable leadership, destructive habits, or a toxic job; the pandemic yanked our eye balls up to life’s surface and forced us, not only to take a hard look, but evaluate and recalibrate. Plus, the undercurrents of life continue: Mother Nature runs her course, whipping coastlines with hurricanes; people die (may they rest in peace); others get laid off; cabin fever abounds; bills pile up.
There is a lot to process…
My heart and head hurt for parents who are juggling each other, kids, schooling, heavy work-loads, errands, not to mention their own emotions — all in the same confined space. The eternal optimist in me believes life gives us no more than we can handle. Curiouser and curiouser are each person’s threshold for stress in any given area. For example, doing a 5 minute live hit on a global news network or solitarily moving halfway around the world for a career opportunity — these were a few of my favorite stressful things. But, cabin fever with a crowd? Life knows my personality. Hermit mode is my default — I relish the space to think and process. The whole world was cocooning and so was I. I thought I was doing well. Until I was gently nudged to realize — I was not.
Around June, which was the 3rd month of social distancing and intermittent stay-at-home orders, I started to get severely fatigued and lethargic. At first, I was worried I had COVID, so I called a dear friend who is a cardiologist. I ran through my symptoms, and he convinced me to schedule a doctor’s appointment (“convinced” basically means he made me swear up and down to do it because everyone in my “Circle of Trust” [thank you, Mr. Focker] knows I’m stubborn when it comes to admitting I need help). Then, I called my provider who, after sharing the same discussion around symptoms via video chat, acknowledged it may not be COVID but that I should come in for extensive testing. So, I did.
The doctor’s visit was uneventful — as were my test results, thankfully, which came in a few days later. But, I will never forget the conversation between my General Physician and me. Innocuous and nonchalant as it were — our talk was like a slap in the face. She asked me, “So, how are you coping with COVID?” I said, “Fine. I take good care of myself — I eat, hydrate, and get sunlight,” listing off what I now realize are the basic needs of a plant. She went quiet as she fidgeted with her gloves; standing several feet away from me. Then, she said the unthinkable. “Have you considered that your symptoms might be a form of mild-depression?” Cue the scratchy sound of a vinyl record screeching to a halt!
I was shocked, embarrassed, and honestly — slightly insulted. First off, insulting: I’m the ‘glass is half full’ girl. I’m the ‘I can handle anything’ girl. I’m the ‘I’ll whoop COVID’s tail then turn-around and whoop his distant cousin — by marriage so not really related — the flu’ girl (huge shout out to Mississippi and the proverbial ‘Can of Whoop Ass’ that is always on stand-by). Second, came the shock factor. Let’s just say, (insert air quotes) hypothetically speaking that I were “mildly depressed.” How would I have missed that? I’m not juggling like most on the daily. Could I be that out of tune that I missed it? Lastly, embarrassment showed up to my doctor’s visit and my reaction party. My thoughts unraveled slowly… was I depressed? Am I not able to handle riding out this pandemic? I can handle this — I am handling this! I thought I was handling this… The doctor granted me grace — she didn’t force me to answer her. She let me digest while she kept on with the rest of our appointment.
When I got home that day, I went to my mirror and had a ‘Come to Jesus’ with myself, as we say Down South. “Alright, girl we gotta pull it together — we are only on lap 50 of 5,000. You can’t fly this one solo — no woman is an island.” By no means am I implying that depression — wherever it may fall on the severity spectrum — is something a person can just ‘snap out of’ or deal with without seeking the proper professional help. I just know myself — I am a cognitively linear person; meaning, I vet solutions in sequence. It’s the analyst in me — that way I can reflect, assess, and say to myself — ok, I tried everything. This stuff worked. This other stuff didn’t — I need to call for reinforcement or supplemental aid in these areas. I march through solution options. That’s just how I roll.
I am also an avid planner — so, I knew I needed an implementation plan. I’ve been working for nearly twenty years, and never had my exposure to project management come to more use than my mirror moment (to all the project managers whose lives I made difficult for getting in the way of my strategies — sorry [not sorry] and thank you).
In the last 6 months, I’ve learned to hover over life and manage my various streams; as a means of making sure ‘no stream gets left behind.’ As usual — the disclaimer I always make is that I am not a psychologist nor does this supplant any scientific mental health advice. I have, however, suffered in silence, so I am sharing this in case it helps anyone else cope with the new COVID landscape because I thought I was — but clearly, I wasn’t. Tweak accordingly — and above all, please seek professional advice.
First — I identified my critical streams. Second, I fed resources into them. And, finally, I tried to make sure they were progressing along in tandem.
Spirit, body, mind cover a large gamut of life streams but, for me, not everything. I also added: inner child, emotional health, and mental check-in. I aim to do at least 1 activity per stream daily, but do not self-flagellate if I don’t hit the mark. Some days I do great — others, I fall off the wagon. Election week, I fell off the wagon, rolled across the field, down the hill into a ravine; bounced through the neighbor’s yard and landed face down in a ditch. It’s ok — I’m making my way back and climbing back on. The point is: every day I try. And, once I get into a consistent flow, I can go up another layer and add the proverbial dashboard feature, which basically aggregates activities to gauge if I am tracking to my overall life goal(s).
Setting a consistent routine was already part of my inherent programming, but spherically nourishing myself was not. Now, I understand why people say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. I had to choose different choices daily to get a different result in my mood, overall mental well-being, and physical energy, while maintaining a semblance of structure to help me stay grounded. The most important things for me were: take it day by day, be patient with myself, stay connected with my loved ones, plus seek help when I needed it. It may not be scientific or full proof. But, for what it is worth — this is helping me…cope.