I have become glutinous; sticking to my home — fearful of going too far away from it. I question every errand that needs attention. How important is it? How much longer can I go without it? Is the purchase cost-effective enough to simply have Instacart drop it off after I fill up my cart via my favorite stores instead? Do I really need to go to the store myself?! Do I?!
I am growing indecisive during this pandemic season and I know it has a lot to do with how scary this virus is and how massive it has become.
I went from a woman working in an imaging facility, screening patients for COVID-19 symptoms to yearning for a workspace from home and actually attaining that and now . . . Now, home is more than just where I work — home is everything. Everything is here at home.
I still get anxious but not nearly as bad as I did on days I knew I had to be in the public eye — around other people. It’s easier to curb my anxiety . . . I have a bit more control over it. I can subdue it and move forward and do what needs to be done on a daily basis.
At home, I am not running away nor do I have the urge to run away from my fears. But I do recognize the magnitude of what has taken place. I am cognizant of the fact that it could be me, my family, or a close loved one (again) pushed toward their demise from this virus.
Home is where I sit with the neverending debate going on in my head; “do I get vaccinated or not?” Currently, there is no winner. I think there will be one soon.
After one year of dealing with the pandemic, I am learning how to be easier on myself. I have new ways to bring joy into my life. I find peace in the simplest things and I hold on to it. I have taken a liking to plants, succulents in particular, as they were a gift to me from my team at my previous job.
I talk to my plants. I name them. I open the blinds in the living room and kitchen and let the love from the sun’s rays wash over them. I water them. I check their soil and preen and primp them. I am ensuring the health and wellness of living things other than myself and my dog, Jernee.
It feels good.
It feels like an accomplishment I did not know I needed to accomplish. It feels essential.
I have what I need . . . Food. Water. Shelter. Books. Laptops. Music. A bossy Chorkie who cuddles with me on cold nights and gives me wet-nosed kisses that turn into paw pats on my face — everything is here at home.
After one rigorous year of quarantine, various mandatory restrictions, and only visiting my closest loved ones every few months, I have a hard time envisioning what the next year and the year after that will have up their sleeves.
And will I be able to remove myself from home? Will I lose the adhesive I’ve grown fond of relying on when I can stray far away once again?
Will I even want to?
This story was written in response to Medium’s Writing Prompt: Pandemic Reflections:What Comes to Mind When You Think About the Pandemic Anniversary?
Originally published on Medium.