BY: JASON RAYNER
The face of someone who has no idea how he’s actually feeling.
There isn’t a lot to say about the initial feeling of quarantine that hasn’t already been covered. And if I’m being honest, I still feel fairly traumatized by it and I most likely won’t process it all completely until years from now. Because that’s what happens when enduring a collective trauma like this.
As we move into the next month of living life in isolation, some of the stress of the situation may dissipate but overall, I find myself feeling the same. I may have cut down on self monitoring every possible symptom of COVID by about 70%, but I still don’t feel like myself. I still feel simultaneously tired and restless, it’s still a struggle to care about health and fitness, I still don’t feel particularly motivated, and I miss my friends.
I still don’t know how to cope.
And judging by the internet, I would guess none of us really know how to cope. Or sorry, the curated version of ourselves on the internet don’t know how to cope.
Since the onset of the pandemic, there have been several distinct groups of social media posters. There are the people that post every possible news story with their very own hot take (although let’s be real, they’ve probably only read the headline that doesn’t even match the content of the story). There are the people who insist on posting about their progress - pages of screenplays or books they are writing, the closets they’ve cleaned out, or photos of their daily fitness stats. These posts are the most innocuous but also confusing, as I don’t actually know what the point of these posts are supposed to be. Then again, I didn’t really understand the point of the posts before we were quarantined, so I’ll just move on.
Then there are the two groups that are on seemingly opposite ends of the posting spectrum but are actually the same. They are the groups obsessed with productivity. There are those that believe this is the time for self improvement, the time for us to get that hot body, so we can drive that Maserati. Their counterparts are those that post political rant after political rant telling you that if you’re spending your days doing anything other than being socially engaged, you’re wasting your time. Stop watching Netflix and stop the patriarchy! (As if a girl can’t do two things at once! Also, I’m pretty sure fighting the patriarchy is a constant, ongoing fight that won’t be toppled while we are all sitting in quarantine and guilting people for watching TV is kind of a stretch. Also art is a great tool for education and can be used to help in the fight to topple the patriarchy…but, I digress).
The difficult thing to swallow about all of these different sources coming at us is that they are all coming from the same place. We all feel helpless. We all feel defeated. We all have no control over anything in our lives right now so we turn to the internet to try and control a space where our voices are amplified. I don’t think the majority of people who post are trying to be hurtful or be malicious, but I also think we don’t realize that in a time where we are all desperate for connections with each other, everyone’s online voice is heightened. A person’s social media account isn’t just a place for people to share their own thoughts, it has a built in audience full of people that have nothing else to do but watch.
We can repeat over and over again that our social media accounts are not our actual experiences. They are carefully crafted images that hide what’s really going on. A sly smile can hide the true panic unfolding in someone’s mind. Self deprecation and memes about being stuck inside help distract from stress. But being inundated by post after post of everyone shouting into the void of the internet can get overwhelming, especially since we seldom say what we’re really feeling, allowing us to truly connect in a time when we need connection.
So I’m here to say, even a month in, I don’t feel motivated. If I write, I’m doing it for a distraction. If I’m being honest, I doubt anyone is going to create a great piece of art about isolation while in isolation (I’m already dreading the indies about [straight white] couples learning to deal with their crumbling relationships during the pandemic).
It’s okay to be emotionally fragile. I feel like even on a good day, I have dark spells. It’s okay to be afraid of getting sick, or to be concerned about the health of your loved ones. I think about it often, too. It’s okay to worry about your financial security while also not caring about diet, fitness, or feeling motivated. Trust me, I’m there too.
I feel like it needs to be repeated over and over because the thing no one seems to really showcase online is vulnerability. It feels like we spend so much time attaching our worth to how much we do. We are so blinded by the concept of success that I don’t even think we know what it truly means. I woke up on a true day off - I’m in between contracts and on CERB - and didn’t know what to do with myself unless I started creating work for myself. If I spend a Wednesday not wanting to do anything, I feel guilty, despite not feeling motivated. Even writing this blog post has been a struggle, with me stopping to google fun colours I could dye my hair, (everything is sold out so I guess I’m not that original), thinking about upkeep of the beard I’ve started growing, and thinking about which type of crackers I want as a snack (this actually is not different from my actual writing process). The reason why I’m writing this isn’t as a way to show my awesome writing discipline - although I admit the very pressure to be productive that I’m calling out in this blog post is looming over me - but as a way to process and hope that other people might be feeling the same as me right now, because like most people, I’m craving some honest, vulnerable connection.
I believe there’s power in saying “I’m just getting by” without asking for advice or words of encouragement. The word unprecedented gets thrown around a lot, and I think it’s pretty accurate. We are all just figuring it out. And believe me, that is enough. Because right now, the most important thing to me right now is surviving.
We’ve created a culture that is truly unsustainable and even as the holes are being poked through it, it still feels scary to create a space to be vulnerable and say “hey, I’m tired and I need to do nothing while I process”. Instead we try to start dialogues about how we can be doing more. I’m happy for people who can do a lot, but I’m really happy to chat with people about doing nothing but feeling the immediacy of this moment.
Sometimes you can’t do anything, and that’s fine. Vulnerability is strength, and believing that is sometimes very difficult. And that’s okay too.
We’re doing amazing, sweetie.