I haven’t posted since early in this COVID outbreak. At that time I was hopeful that shutting things down would do the trick– stop the virus before what we had seen in China, Italy and Spain.
This may seem like a rant. So be it.
I haven’t seen my boyfriend now since Christmas time. I just saw my brother who lives here in Toronto on Sunday after four months. I live alone and my landlady who lives above me has moved out to the country for this COVID time. I’m wearing a mask any time I’m on a commercial street, and always when I’m in a shop.
A lot of the time I feel terrible. I’m trying to go out for a walk every day but to do the same route makes me sad, even if new things are blooming. Same old same old says my brain. But the garden makes me happy, as well as talking to my neighbours. Music, opera, jokes!
I have stopped drinking during the week to try and sleep better, and to feel less blue. I think it helps, according to my FitBit. Some nights are still odd.
I could publish a crazy book of my bad dreams– monsters, snowstorms, sex with who?? It’s only the nightmares that wake me up that are a problem. I wake and cannot walk properly, noise makes me ill, or I have a migraine. COVID rules have just become part of my post-TBI worries.
My WordPress blog here has changed some things on line so normally I would write something, edit and then publish. I can’t seem to find that today. On-line things are more confusing in these last months.
This COVID worry has really affected my ability to write: blogs, postcards, poetry, emails, all of it. I am really trying to just write Something/Anything, to get out of this bad place.
But today I feel like I can push on. I can write about masks and how difficult they are for post-TBI people. I can write about my frustration with civic and commercial “on-line” access to things which shuts out disabled people or persons without internet. And the confusions that come with new provincial guidelines? Oh, I can tell you!
But there is some good. Tonight some neighbours across the street played fiddle music from 7 to 8:30 pm from their front porch. I wished that my sisters had been here so we could dance in the street. My tomatoes are growing and the cardinals are coming to eat my bird seed.
I miss hugs and closeness so much. My neighbours and I have become more friendly and supportive but it’s not the same. But we all know that.
Some of my feelings and responses during this pandemic are due to my post-TBI symptoms. PTSD gives me an unpredictable response to stressful events. But I know that.
All of us are trying to get through this time, and many of us are depending more on each other. On the phone, on-line, talking from six feet away– this is what we need most.
Stay safe and take care,
Patty
