I have always loved to be around people. Coming from a loud, touchy Italian family I rarely was alone. Actually I disliked being alone and still do. My careers lent themselves to enabling me to be around people most of the time. A class full of children or an innful of guests was what was comfortable for me.
After retiring from both I found myself for the first time in my adult life living alone. But I filled my days and evenings meeting colleagues for lunch or dinner, and going out with friends in the evenings. Shaking hands, hugging, a slap on the back helped me feel connected. In my family, a regular conversation included touching at various points for emphasis or emotion. That was part of learning to speak. All of this helps explain why I have had such difficulty with Covid 19 self distancing and the subsequent isolation it required. At first it was just uncomfortable. The touching, hugging, shaking hands was adjusted to a fist bump or elbow tap when accidentally I ran into someone. Awkward, it still provided human personal contact. As the year progressed we all seemed to withdraw more and more into ourselves. Loneliness crept in especially at night. From a social being I had become a recluse. From a social society we became a society of hermits.
As the months of masking and isolating passed, I fell into a routine. My house became my world. One day just bled into the next and routine became inertia for me and loneliness slipped into depression. All I wanted was to be with people again and it is still what I want! What I need.
Then, last week, my daughter and I were going to pick up food and go to her house and watch a movie which we had been doing once a week for several months. I looked forward to our movie nights. But then something came over me. All that day I was resisting the idea of going out. I didn’t even want to get dressed, the effort to get ready to go out seemed overwhelming. Suddenly, I didn’t want to make the effort to go. I just wanted to stay in my chair and watch TV. This was not like me. The other contradiction I realized was that my house was a mess. The dust was pretty thick, the newspapers were piled by the door to be recycled but never got into the bin in spite of all the time I had on my hands. I have become the exact opposite of who I always thought I was.
I’m smart enough to know depression can do this kind of stuff and believe once this pandemic has eased enough to go back to where we were last February, my Italian traditions and inclinations will return. I like myself much better as a social insect rather than the spider who sits alone in its web waiting for its next solitary meal! This too shall pass……..
Now, in an attempt to make this pass sooner, last week I was rummaging around in my basement trying to better organize it. I stumbled upon (not really stumbled upon but forced myself to climb up on the cement shelf) boxes and boxes of my model railroad stuff. I think I have mentioned before that that particular hobby was the only thing my brother, dad and I ever did together. Every Christmas Dad would drag out the platform, claim half the living room floor and set up our Lionel Christmas village. The three of us would be crawling around on our knees arguing over whether the Plasticville church should go near the overhead trestle bridge or near the firehouse. In an effort to feel a little close to them and as a definite distraction from inertia, I started opening up boxes and smiling at what was inside. Later in my life I actually had a layout in my house in Woodstock, NY at which time I built structures from models and from scratch. I built a model of every house I had ever lived in up to that point. Though I have more exploration to do in those boxes I pulled out some very nice structure kits that got me excited and brought many of them upstairs to the dining room table- a perfect work space since I wasn’t doing any formal dinners at the moment. Naturally, I had to go and buy some supplies as most of the paint and glue I had used some 25 years ago had pretty much dried up. I now own a brand new Xacto knife set, multiple use brushes, glues of various varieties and a plethora of acrylic paint bottles and am in the process of setting up my work space.
Right now the resistance is… which kit to start first. I remind myself that inertia is a strong force to be dealt with that requires fortitude to overcome and encouragement, mostly from the dog, to get at it. That is my primary objective for this week…….to get at it! I have promised myself that I will beat this inertia! Could someone give me a little push please? More to follow!
Don’t despair, George – we’re here to nudge! I recognize the feelings you expressed. When you are under duress, the world gets smaller. A body at rest stays at rest… bits of your repertoire tend to disappear; motivation lags. It’s sort of a confinement syndrome.
The lovely aspect of people is that we are so adaptive. We can even get used to our Covid gulag. It’s easy to lose ambition in the process.
I appreciate Hen’s point of engaging in a new project and taking satisfaction from projects undertaken. When I’m stuck, I break large problems into small packages. Even if it seems to take forever to overcome some of those issues, focusing on limited “wins” keeps me on the right road and helps me avoid becoming disoriented or overwhelmed.
It’s important to keep on moving, physically and mentally, particularly at our stage of life. Lately, I’ve been more aware that there is limited time remaining for me to engage in activities that have been taken for granted up to now. That is what is so telling about our constrained period of social interaction during the time of COVID: it has stolen a precious year (and more) from our remaining time.
Even if the task is not something I prefer to do, I encourage myself by saying a prayer of thanks that I’m still able to do it. Small wins. Look for areas of enjoyment and set goals that support some measurable achievement.
And, of course, share your victories with your buddies!
The Big Test
George captures the feelings of many as we sludge along this unknown path of living. I expect, at times, we’ve all know what it feels like to be uncertain about our future or the outcome of a path chosen. In my experience, this occurs infrequently and even more rarely when one or two of my network of supporting friends and family were also in the same boat. However, as we move into year 2 of the pandemic, it feels like everyone is significantly impacted and in need and, to make matters worse, the timeline for managing it to a point of renewed stability keeps being pushed just beyond our reach. Truly, we are, together, in uncharted waters.
I also have encountered evidence that I might not be as together and happy as I might think. The other morning I found myself calmly pouring orange juice into my cereal bowl and, as I watched from what seemed to be another being, realized how long it took for my brain to realize I was in control of my hand and could stop at any point. Yikes! And then there was the time I texted a friend to wish her good luck on her upcoming workshop, knowing full well it wasn’t for three more days but simply responded to an incorrect reminder from my iPhone. Duh! Last, but certainly not least, is how quickly I can turn from a calm, easy-going mood into anger and upset over meaningless, even laughable triggers. Yup, George, something is definitely out of whack!
To the rescue comes George’s project. More than just a distraction from daily sameness, it stimulates old and new brain functions and brings back a purpose that results in joy and satisfaction. Then, the next time we connect with friends via phone, Zoom, email, or in person at the supermarket, we can replace the distancing conversation of politics or COVID with something that is “new” and that brings an energy to our voice.
I’ve found the time I’m spending with my GoPro camera learning everything from scratch and the continued culling of stuff I no longer need or want in my house, to offer the same effect. I look forward to the progress I make each day as well as the related (yet unexpected) activities that spiral outward from this work. It also lends credence to looking beyond to even bigger “new beginnings.”
As with all experiences, if I am able to step back and look at what I’m going through from afar, I get a more comprehensive perspective. In this case, when I’m not caught up in the negative emotionality that isolation, sacrifice, and limited choice can bring, I recognize that this is just another test that life presents. A query of how I can continue to appreciate what I have rather than what I’ve lost, to remember it’s temporary, no matter how long that may be, and to learn from these events so that I will emerge even better prepared for the next test. So far, perhaps a “B” but hoping for, at least, a “B+.”