Not Okay, OK?

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

*** Warning: this is a first world problem rant.  If you don't have the spoons to read this, please move on.  My intention is not to make you feel bad; it's to make me feel a little bit better. ***


Today is the 24th day that we have been social distancing, and I am not okay.

We drove around the downtown core to escape the confines of our home prison, and saw a number of familiar buildings all boarded up and closed, possibly forever.  That was not okay.

As we passed by a drug store in a densely-populated area of the city, we saw a long line of people spaced 2 metres apart, waiting just to enter the building.  That was not okay.

We noted the many playgrounds and park areas cordoned off with yellow tape and orange cones to prevent people from entering and gathering.  While I am 100% on board with social distancing, the sight of that was not okay.

Some of our friends have no work, and we are worried about them.  They are not okay.

My eschewed collection of reusable grocery bags sit sadly in a corner, suddenly rejected in favour of environmentally-unsound plastic bags again.  The world is returning to disposable plastic, and that is not okay.

The world beyond my four walls and own bubbly existence is changing and falling apart, and I do not feel okay.


But I am afraid to voice my not okay-ness, because comparisons not only breed discontentment and rob people of joy, but they also breed resentment and hostility.  People in positions of privilege, in first world bougie situations and facing first world bougie problems, are often made to feel guilty about feeling bad.  Don't you know how good you have it? Take your entitlement somewhere else, because we have *real* problems.  Get over yourself.

I get it.  Hubbs still has his job, and because I am not working, I can give him the time and space he needs to do his thing from a home office.  While our house isn't a mansion, we do have a larger dwelling than many others in our city, so we have space to be apart from each other when we need it.  We have a fridge and pantry full of food, we have our health, and we have insurance in the event we fall ill.  We really do like each other, so sharing a roof 24x7 isn't a dangerous or depressing experience.  We already homeschool by choice, so we aren't being thrust against our will into a forced home learning situation, but instead continue to thrive within it.

Many, many others are facing very scary situations that involve food shortages, health problems, sick loved ones, financial ruin, and other big life problems that create major stressors.  Many are just trying to stay above water, and just as many aren't able to do so right now.

So yes, in comparison to the folks who are struggling with those challenges right now, we are fine; I am fine.  But that doesn't mean that I am actually okay, because I am not.  And for me to feel guilty about not feeling okay is also doing myself a grave injustice, because my feelings matter, too.  Why should my experience count any less just because I might have a little more?  Why should I feel guilty for being human?  This virus, and the fallout of COVID-19, is a global human experience that impacts everyone.  Everyone.  And it has impacted me.

I'm disappointed because we had to cancel our Disneyland trip, the first big vacation we would have had in two years.  I'm sad because Little L is also disappointed.

I'm frustrated because some people are still not observing social distancing practises or staying home, and they are going to ruin it for everyone else and prolong the impact of the virus on our vulnerable populations.

I'm furious because the so-called leader in our neighbouring country is blocking PPE equipment, specifically N95 masks, from being sold and shipped to the brave medical staff working hard on our front lines.

I'm exhausted, because we cannot bring anyone in to relieve me from my parenting duties for even just a few hours a week.  And since we still co-sleep, that means I'm on mama duty 24 hours a day, unless Hubbs is available to hang with Little L to give me a small break.

I'm anxious, because I don't want anyone I love to fall ill, and I don't want to get sick myself.

I'm afraid, because I see how COVID-19 has really brought out the worst in some people, and we have no idea how long the social distancing measures have to last.

I'm devastated for the impact that all of these masks, gloves, PPE and plastic bags are going to have on our already-polluted, globally-warming planet.

I'm annoyed by the dissemination of a lot of fear-mongering, ignorant information on social media.

I'm dismayed by the amount of racism against Asians, and specifically Chinese people, that is being surfaced during this moment in history.

I'm concerned about all of the OT sessions my kiddo is missing out on, because her gross and fine motor skills won't just sort themselves out.

The list goes on and on.

And I am not okay.

And that is okay.

In fact, it's completely healthy to experience this range of emotions.  This is a black swan event at a very momentous point in human history.  And we are all living it in real time, without any knowledge of how things will end.  Some liken it to war time, and others are reminded of previous pandemics like the Spanish Flu.  But really, this is like none of those times; we live in a digital age, and one that is tremendously dependent on global trade and electricity.  Information can be transmitted in mere seconds, and we have access to people across the planet at any given time of day.  We also live in a time when we are no longer self-sufficient; many of us don't know the first thing about growing our own food or making our own butter.  Our reliance on others, and on services provided by others, is unprecedented.

So yes, this is a scary time.  And it's okay to not be okay.

When this finally ends, which of course it will in due course, the landscape of our cities and countries and planet may be quite different.  Or maybe they will return to being exactly the same as they were before coronavirus hit, but we will be different.  Our resilience, our patience, our faith and our fortitude will be tested, and hopefully we will have been refined by the fire.

On that day, whenever it is, I think we will be okay.

But not today.