Saturday, October 10, 2020

2020 and Coronavirus Fatigue

I’m tired. I’m tired of 2020 and COVID-19. 2020 has certainly been full of meme-worthy events, but the pandemic has loomed over them all. I vacillate between exasperation and calling people out for not wearing masks, on the one hand, and resignation on the other. Anger? Depression? Mostly, I’m just tired. 

I worry about friends who have had or will catch COVID-19. I grieve for those who have lost friends or relatives to the disease. I wonder if – no, when – I (or a family member) will catch it, and how severe the illness will be. I think we all suffer from a sense of impending doom.

I’m tired of trying to figure out why some people think they have a right to endanger others by not wearing a mask or social distancing. Would they also get drunk and drive? This selfish hubris is bald hypocrisy when practiced by those who conflate Christianity and partisan politics, whose insistence on personal rights and worship of Trump evidently are more important than loving their neighbor. (See there? I am getting angry again.)

And now that Trump has COVID-19, the politicization of mask wearing by some on the right has been countered with a celebratory “I-told-you-so” attitude by some on the left. As one observer said, referring to all the warnings about how cavalier the Trump White House has been about masks and social distancing, “There is no joy in being right.” My private prediction that Trump – if he got out of the hospital fairly quickly – would turn around and say, ‘See? This coronavirus isn’t that bad!’ came true. I do hope and pray he continues to a full recovery. But I am so very tired of the scientific community having to clean up after Trump’s ignorant and dangerous medical beliefs and statements.

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross famously described five stages of grief that terminally ill patients experience when faced with their impending death. These stages – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – have since been used to describe our emotional processing of any loss or tragedy. Or, in the case of 2020, an entire year. Kübler-Ross’s stages do not have to be experienced in the commonly stated order. And those stages, it seems to me, can be seen in our national narrative and psyche as well, not just our individual lives. The United States is reeling from successive, seemingly unrelenting blows (hurricanes, wildfires, protests, murder hornets, the pandemic, etc.), staggering between anger and depression – as I have been personally – or grasping at national denial and bargaining, depending on the day. 

My wife tells me how homesick she is for the life pre-pandemic. I find myself overeating as an escape from the relentless bad news cycle. I can tell I’m not sleeping as well, either. Are you tired as well? How are you handling 2020? We all need to be mindful of how we handle stress and depression. Relying on alcohol, marijuana, or other drugs is not appropriate coping, yet drug and alcohol use are on the rise. Mental health and alcohol and drug abuse organizations – Burke and the Alcohol and Drug Abuse Council of Deep East Texas (ADAC), for example – are here to help. Don’t let yourself spiral out of control. If you are having a mental health emergency, call Burke’s 24-hour crisis line at 1 (800) 392-8343. For ADAC services, call 1 (800) 445-8562 or (936) 634-5753 to schedule an appointment.

Regardless of the sequence or magnitude of the stages of grief, the goal for resolution and healing – individually as well as nationally – must be some movement toward acceptance. In the case of the pandemic, that acceptance ideally should include an acknowledgement of the reality and severity of the illness and the need for at least a basic individual and communal response (hand washing, masks, social distancing), even if we don’t always agree on broader, more complex issues, like how and when the economy or the schools should open up. We must accept that the scientific community is not out to derail the presidency; rather, to save lives.

2020 will come to an end. On December 31 at midnight, we will sing Auld Lang Syne and gratefully close the book on the year. Not so fast with the pandemic. A safe and effective vaccine may still be a ways off. Though we are all tired (and occasionally angry or depressed), we cannot let down our guard as individuals or as a society. Let’s move beyond denial, anger, bargaining and depression and toward acceptance, including acceptance of and care for each other. We have so many strengths as community, and we need each other now more than ever. Together, we can do this. The ancient prophet Isaiah could have written for today: we must renew our strength, to run and not grow weary, to walk and not be faint. And while we are at it, let’s not forget to love our neighbor as ourselves.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.