A [Pandemic] Journal Entry

I’ve reached the point where the sound of laughter coming out of my throat sounds foreign. It feels forced, like squeezing a cough out of your body to dislodge something that causes discomfort. Sudden bouts of joy feel startling and unmanageable. 

Right now, happiness is too big a burden to carry. Happiness is a cliff you dance on, hoping your feet don’t make a misstep, launching you into the valley below (where there is definitely no happiness). I’d rather set up shop in that valley than brace myself for the fall. I’d also rather I didn’t feel that way–I want to have the desire to dance on the edge. 

I try to think back to the last time I was consistently happy and I’m faced with a harsh reality. The pandemic did not cause this unhappiness. It may have tugged at it’s limbs, causing an ache to an already sore body; but, I’ve been battling to achieve this, almost mythical, idea of happiness far before we were shut inside. 

I realize we (as in me and I’m sure at least one other person) have begun glorifying what pre-pandemic life looked like. Embellished memories of us (as in me and I’m sure at least one other person) traipsing around “the city,” indulging in good food and libations, listening to live music and embracing our group of 10 friends who we could only describe as “kindred spirits” seem to come up when we think back to a “normal” world. 

The sound of seatbelts un-clicking on a crowded airplane, and the smell of a pack of cigarettes emanating off of a stranger’s jacket at a rowdy concert, or even the ability to freely cough in a public setting conjure up feelings of indulgence. 

In reality, those things made up about 1/15th of my life and as I lived through them, I still experienced discomfort, caught up with petty worries, wondering if the extra calories of a restaurant meal was “worth it”, wondering why I always felt disconnected from people, wishing I could have some space in a crowded area.

To look back on pre-pandemic things in a positive light inspires hope for what is possible in the future, but I wonder if looking back on those things also causes us to realize how dully and cautiously we lived before. 

In reality, my pre-pandemic days looked like a sad montage emphasizing the monotony of life. Queue me rolling out of bed and climbing into my car before the sun rose, committing 8+ hours to a job I did on autopilot, trudging back home in the dark with the realization that I’d missed the sunlight hours, only to be too exhausted from forcing myself to care about things that seemed trivial to do things for me, like workout or connect with a friend. Pre-pandemic me was lonely. She chased success through a 9-5 and felt guilty investing in things that produced joy, like vacations, concerts and dinners out. Pre-pandemic me was saving for a day when it’d be ok to be frivolous, knowing that day would never come. Pre-pandemic me lived in my head.

Now I make statements like “I miss having a life” and it sounds as stupid as saying “I miss going to Paris” knowing good and damn well, I’ve never been to Paris.

I’ve seen many people state that the adrenaline of the pandemic is wearing off. I think many of us needed a dramatic shift in our lives to reassess our priorities. Abrupt change is great for that. My first pandemic regret? Never taking a real vacation after beginning to work full-time. Then, I realized there was an overall theme of avoiding ownership over my happiness. So now, I’m here, sitting in my home office, the privilege oozing out of the keys of my laptop, facing the fact that pandemic or not, I need to do better.

I need to laugh more, however uncomfortable, live life more passionately, love on the people that add color to my world and finally cash in on the bundle of happiness I have on lay-away.

I’m not sure what that looks like. The pandemic is still hard, but so is life. I am fortunate enough to have what I need and a lot of what I want. Life is too bizarre and interesting to not poke and prod at it, not to take advantage of it and just live, despite the circumstances. 

I hope to look back on this time and be able to say, I figured out how to live in contentment despite my circumstances. I figured out how to laugh without feeling like I’ve coughed recklessly into the open. 


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