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Page 9 of 116
It's been tiring being left in the house all day. I've started to look for jobs so I can have something to do but they take long to respond back to me and I begin to lose hope. My parents won't let me go outside because "it's only getting worse" like it hasn't been worse for the last couple of months but anything to keep me inside and sheltered.
August 3, 2020
This weekend I watched as an older brother taught his younger brother the basics of baseball. My heart swelled. I was quite emotional watching the two brothers in the park as I sat inside watching through my living room window. The older brother was about 15 and the younger brother about 9. The patience and love showcased by the older brother were just heart-warming. I felt nostalgic for them just watching. It's nice to think that even during the madness of a pandemic, there are family memories being formed that will carry well beyond. It's a happy memory I'll carry with me.
August 3, 2020
Strange indirect Coronavirus realization this week.. my child thinks the mailman is like Santa. He thinks the mailman just brings him presents everyday. I was talking with my friend who as a child the same age as my son (3 years old) and she was saying that her daughter said she was going to ask the mailman for a present. I guess this is normal for a young child to make sense of. But, I realized today just how much we have become reliant on ordering things from Amazon that we would have normally just gone out and purchased at a store. We have almost daily deliveries now of random things we need, where as before I would have just run out to Target. And, so now, my child thinks our mailman is Santa.
August 4, 2020
Dear PJP, This past week the corona virus pandemic has enabled me with the time to organize a Protest and community discussion against racism and police violence. The event was very successful as we were able to begin to create the fertile soil that can allow the BIPOC community to not just live but flourish. As we continue our social & racial justice work ... we are trying to find news ways to listen, understand and implement tangible change within our communities. It has truly been a trans-formative experience. Also, within the last week I start working again at one of my three jobs, ... the one I was most apprehensive of going back to because the nature of the work I do there requires me to be in close contact with people. ... ... As I begin to venture back into society though I still very nervous about the possibility of catching corona-virus. It makes me even more frustrated that our president has choose not to lead and take effective change but instead has allowed hundreds of thousands of people to died at his hands. I thought it could not get any worse with him, but somehow it always does. Thus, because of the lack of action taken to contain/ control this virus I fear catching it and bringing home to my more susceptible family members.
August 4, 2020
I read 'The Cancer Journals' by Audre Lorde earlier in the week and, though she was talking about the individual experience of having breast cancer, her words about how sudden illness impacts all facets of yourself stood out. She describes 'the agony of an involuntary reorganisation of my entire life' following a negative diagnosis. This resonated very much in terms of how many people lost out with lockdown. However, she also says: 'But within those three weeks, I was forced to look upon myself and my living with a harsh and urgent clarity that has left me shaken but still stronger'. I hope this will apply as we recover from Covid-19.
August 4, 2020
I live in a studio with my husband. We have been living here since September, when I moved to the country, 2 months after getting civilly married. The goal was to move once I got a job --- but that hasn't happened yet. We joke that we went from a long-distance relationship to living in a studio, to being in 'shelter at home' in a studio. And boy has it been tough at times. We have taken to sometimes using the bathroom as a separate room. It means that if we have a fight, we still have to sit in the same room with each other OR walk out of the house to take a break. It means that when I wake up 3 hours before my husband I need to work quietly and he just needs to get used to little bits of noise in the morning because there is nowhere else for me to sit. It means either sitting at the table or on my bed throughout the day. Thankfully we have a garden - which I have used very often during the nice days. I honestly don't know what I would have done if I didn't have the garden. I feel so bad for everyone who did not have an outdoor space to go to. The studio also only has a mini fridge - which means that we are unable to stock up on food. There also isn't really storage space for non-fridge food. It took some time to get used to shopping during COVID. As we live next to a grocery store, we were used to going 2-3 times a week to stock up, and now we try to only go once a week and find places to store everything. We are making do with that. My husband and I joke, that if we are able to make it through COVID in a studio, we will be fine for anything else that comes our way in the future.
August 4, 2020
Some days, when the walls are closing in, and I've not laid eyes on another human being for over a week other than my spouse and the few silent, masked souls wandering the aisles on a Tuesday morning at Walmart, I feel that this pandemic--already entering its sixth month--is never going to end. I feel trapped. Trapped in a situation over which I have no control. How long must I remain sequestered? When will I be able to safely visit and wrap my arms around my elderly mother, my sons and my grandchildren? When can I venture anywhere without the vital mask and hand sanitizer? How many more will die and/or suffer the ravages of COVID-19 before an effective vaccine becomes available? How can this possibly be happening in the 21st century? Trapped. Trapped in a nightmare. Unable to escape. Unable to move forward. Time marches on, and yet, it stands still. Remember bibliophile Henry Bemis in the "Time Enough at Last" episode of Twilight Zone? Henry finally gets his wish to be able to read whenever and whatever he wants; however, he accidentally breaks his glasses, so his plans and dreams are shattered. He's all alone with nothing enjoyable to occupy his time. At some point during this pandemic, each of us, unfortunately, can relate to poor Henry Bemis. Time was on our side, but COVID-19 reared its ugly head to impede our hopes and ambitions.
August 4, 2020
There is a storm outside but it looks like the tornado hit inside. Dreary days inside and out. The rain keeps pouring. At least it is something new. And we can hope for a rainbow.
August 4, 2020
At first the pandemic was exciting. Everyone was talking about it, and things felt tense at work since we didn't know what was happening. The transition to working remotely happened essentially overnight, and all I remember from the time period right after is an intense period of activity as I transitioned myself to this new format. I think I channeled some of my anxiety into work and focused it in being as productive as possible. The amount I did was insane! Yet at the same time, I started feeling burnt out, and I realized that I needed to take a step back and consider my mental health. I was exhausted those first few weeks. I also felt some anxiety about whether I would be laid off from my job, but luckily the market turbulence works in our favor. I was really nervous about that for a few days, plus worry about how the virus would impact my health and that of my friends and family. There were so many unknowns that it made me anxious, but as we learn more about the virus and effective prevention, I feel more comfortable going outside or going to the grocery store. The uncertainty more than anything bothered me. There was a time in May and June when the quarantine doldrums really hit. I think I was bothered by some things going on at work as well, and felt incredibly demotivated and anxious about the amount of work I had. I think the anxiety kept me from doing work! I didn't want to do anything, and I felt that my work didn't matter. Every day started feeling the same, like I was in my own version of Groundhog Day. That's when I started noticing how despite all the days feeling the same... time passed by very quickly. I blinked on Monday and it was suddenly Friday. I think the monotony is the challenge now. I'm craving any sort of change from my usual work and my apartment. Going to my parent's was the right call, as is starting a new exercise program. It's really helping me push through the boredom and same-ness. Traveling to visit my boyfriend will also help a lot, as awful as the drive out will be. I feel confident that I will be able to find ways to change up my life now, whereas before it was this waiting pattern until my boyfriend left for med school and staying in the city together. Now I have some serious change coming my way, and it's helping me differentiate days and create excitement and actual things to look forward to again. Who knows what problems I will face in a month? For now, I feel like the monotony will slowly fade away.
August 6, 2020
Aquí todo es individual, nadie se preocupa más allá de su territorio y más aún se acentuado con la "sana distancia" las personas se evitan en la mayoría. Los demás se han vuelto desconocidos, extraños, alguien a quién evitar.
August 6, 2020
Por suerte no lo he vivido en persona, ni en familiares cercanos. Pero varios vecinos han sido acusados de ser portadores de la enfermedad. ¿Motivos? Hubo un caso positivo en una empresa, algunas personas de la zona trabajaban ahí, como no eran contacto estrecho no fueron hisopados solo advertidos de vigilar su salud. Pero los chismes vuelan más rápido que la pólvora. Y los dedos acusadores son también bastante rápidos.
August 6, 2020
Los casos han ido en aumento, parece que nos comienzan a rodear, un día estábamos bien y al siguiente dieron 20 positivos. La gente se cuida menos, más casos aparecen y menos barbijos veo. Intentamos no entrar en pánico en la familia pero es difícil teniendo tantos niños en la familia cercana, aunque no sean parte del grupo de riesgo tampoco nos agrada a ninguno la idea de qué podrían enfermar. Ojalá los casos bajen, y mejor aún. Que no lleguen a mi familia. Durante la primer semana de cuarentena mi prima sufrió 3 días de 40° de fiebre, por suerte no fue el Coronavirus, pero no quisiéramos pasar por esa sensación otra vez. No ahora. No queremos ser parte de las estadísticas.
August 6, 2020
I can’t stop thinking about the week before the shutdown. I was so overwhelmed - I’d taken on way too many projects, having said “yes” to everything, and it had come back to me in the ass. I was in performances for one show and rehearsals for two others, preparing for a concert in LA, taking on more and more classes and voice students, and I knew I wouldn’t have a day to myself until mid-summer. I told my mother one day, in late February, “I wish everything would just... pause.” I just wanted the entire world to take a breather, so that I could too. I was going mad with stress. I wanted it all to just stop. And a week later, it did. First, I learned that one show would not be continuing after the first weekend of performances. The next day, two other shows were cancelled. My obligations and commitments dropped like dominoes, one after the other. And I felt a deep grief for each cancellation, almost like mourning. I didn’t get to hug my students goodbye. It seemed like it all happened so fast. And it felt like I’d wished on a monkey’s paw. Five months later, I’ve done more than I thought I would. But I still miss live theatre more than anything. I’m feeling restless to start again. The world’s been stopped for too long.
August 6, 2020
The days are seeming to drag on more. I want to go out and do something, like I would have before - see a movie, eat out with friends, go to a show or just have a little get-together. But a lot of that isn't possible, and what is possible feels too dangerous. I don't want to risk getting COVID just to eat at a restaurant, and I don't want to risk exposing others to do that. Takeout is just gonna have to be enough. I'm becoming more certain that we'll be doing this into next year. The government isn't taking the proper action, and things are just getting worse and worse. I'm tired.
August 6, 2020
I don't think it was a conscious idea, but I stopped praying. When I had to go out of the house, I would pray every morning, sometimes also in the afternoon. I went to shul every Shabbat. Now it is rare that I will pray. I don't want to get dressed. Or I don't really feel like talking to God or mumbling the words. I don't know if or why it is important. A few weeks ago when my husband and I heard davening in our backyard, we quickly got dressed and went to the outdoor shul. I was excited to see what it was going to be like. I was hoping for some excitement or feeling of awe for the first time in months being part of a community or hearing the Torah read. And all I felt, in the end, was a desire to run away, and that I was stuck. It struck me last week when i was sitting in my garden, in shorts and a tank top, reading a novel, while I overheard the Torah reading. I had no desire to run to get dressed or even enter that space again. The rituals I still do are go to the mikvah. Which I question more now, of what is this water really doing. Is it worth all the planning and arranging that I need to do so I can go? Shabbat, which I appreciate as the one day that I don't have to focus on my computer. Although at times I want to have interactions with people other than my husband. But overall it is nice to have a day where I don't feel bad about sitting in the sun and reading. I am curious as to how Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur will feel this year. Not sure if I will go to shul or if there will be shul. I am also a rabbi --- so I am not sure how I will be able to [be] present or helpful to others who are also feeling a lack of connection. I am not sure if it is a loss of faith or perhaps just a loss of desire for strict rituals.
August 7, 2020
Esta semana me siento mas enojada con la sociedad, difinitvamente la falta de empatía que tenemos los humanos con los demás es la principal causa de contagios en esta pandemia me enoja que con tantos muertos y el indice de contagios en aumento a estas alturas siga leyendo o escuchando comentarios de personas que no creen en la enfernedad, que prefieran aplaudir a un camion de cerveza que a un enfermero... el personal de Salud está colapsado y devastado fisica y emocionalmente y la gente sigue sin creer, sigo viendo niños en los parques y las playas de mi ciudad abarrotadas... QUE NOS PASA HUMANOS!!! ...
August 7, 2020
When I was an undergraduate I studied in West Berlin for my junior year. Prior to German reunification, families were separated by a wall – and were not allowed to travel in order to connect. I never thought I’d be in a similar situation. But you see, I live in Rhode Island and all my east-coast family all live across the border in Massachusetts, about 1 hour away. Mind you, a trip to Massachusetts is not really “traveling” for me – I can walk to Massachusetts from my house. I get fresh produce and other curb-side groceries in Massachusetts – neither of which is available at curbside anywhere near where I live. My employer is in Massachusetts, although for now I am working at home. Providence and surrounding Massachusetts (yes they surround us…) are in the same media market. We are really one community. Yet the governor of Massachusetts has issued a travel ban for Rhode Island. Being someone who is careful to follow the law, I wondered exactly what that meant… and wondered if I could go to my produce shop 1 mile over the border. Would I be able to see my family? At all? Or am I separated from them until the pandemic is over? Unable to find any details about this travel ban (other than the requirement for a 2-week quarantine or a negative COVID test within 72 hours, and a $500 per day fine for violators – does this make ANY sense for a brief day-trip?). I called the police department in the closest Massachusetts town for guidance. The officer who answered the phone was very nice, but equally unclear about what the travel ban actually meant. He said, “you know what, I live in Rhode Island…” (Ironic, but not surprising.) His advice was, short trips into Massachusetts is OK for shopping, and as long as you didn’t stay long, it was allowable, he thought. I asked, “So, it sounds like, as long as you don’t stay overnight, then it’s OK?” He thought that sounded right, but he remained somewhat unsure. (If the police don’t know the rules, how can the rest of us know?) Going to work, going for medical care, passing through the state to go elsewhere were also apparently OK. But what about seeing my family? I live alone – and am the only one in my family living in Rhode Island. Further, I am perhaps among the most careful people around – adhering to mask rules, never going into a building other than my house, not allowing others into my house – only meeting people when necessary at a distance outside, everyone with masks – and I work from home remotely. Yet, for my mental health, I need to see my family from time to time. I wonder - will I be spending Thanksgiving alone – instead of at a small outdoor gathering of my immediate family? That feeling tugs at my heart. Beyond sadness, the situation also makes me feel persecuted – much like those German people I recall from the cold war who yearned to see loved ones on the other side of the wall. And there is really nothing I can do about my situation as it is being imposed on me and the people of Rhode Island by a neighboring state in which we have no vote. I find tha it is increasingly difficult to keep my spirits up, and this does not help.
August 10, 2020
I have been feeling both lighter and darker during this Covid-19 time. Still grieving and feeling the void from my Mom's death on April 28, Not Covid thank God, I have at times found myself going back in time in Slow motion, recalling good times with my family. A lot of childhood images. But sometimes I look ahead and that looks scary...sorta. Well, I will keep living mindfully!
August 10, 2020
I have a recurring dream. It's a nightmare. I see a tall bookshelf in our bedroom (it doesn't exist!) and on the top of the bookshelf there's a fragile vase. The vase is about to fall off the bookshelf and shatter. I wake up - and I wake myself up - with a gasp, a jump, and I'm out of the bed, rushing to the bookshelf that does not exist to catch the vase that is not falling. Sometimes I wake my husband with my loud gasp and my frantic movements. I'm then awake and terrified the rest of the night. Sometimes the dream has a different story - I hear a doorbell and must jump up out of bed to help someone - but it's the same feeling of anxiety, responsibility, and unrest. I know what this dream is about. I am struggling with the added pressures as a mom in this pandemic. I've always been the CEO of the family and my husband is the COO. He is fabulous; he does a LOT. But it's all stored in my head. Each of our kids has his own google calendar (since March) so I need to monitor these, plus my husband's work schedule, plus my own. It's exhausting. And terrifying. I'm always worried that I'm forgetting to do something or to tell one of my kids to be on a zoom. I've been on important calls and I've interrupted to call out to the other room, "Honey, can you please make sure our son is on his juggling camp zoom?" My head hurts. There's always more to do and nowhere to go. I'm ready to wake up from this global nightmare.
August 10, 2020
This week, I am grateful for our home and for the ability to expand and create beauty in this ugly time.
August 10, 2020