A Letter To My Dead Mom Where I Tell Her About The COVIdiots And How I’ve Learned To Cope With Lockdown Anxiety

Blissful hermit isn’t exactly the way I’d describe my confinement, and any suggestion of that I may have given is bull poop on a Popsicle stick. As you well know, panic, anxiety and depression runs rampant throughout our family tree, on both sides of that 49th, twisting and tying us in knots, though some of us more than others.

So, for me, keeping this anxiety at bay is a new and unwelcome challenge. It kinda just clenches on to something inside me, happens when I read something, see something, and WHAM… that feeling of helplessness, anguish, covered in chocolate sprinkles of panic.

Laughter does help. Well, till the next horrible hideous no-good very bad thing, but that’s why I usually just scan quickly through, look for good news, happy things, cause its there.

Keeping a running list of things I need also sort of helps. You know, make sure I’m adulting, washing the dishes, obsessively cleaning everything, taking care of myself, thinking ahead. But for some reason that running list makes me feel better, maybe cause it forces me to inventory, plan my meals. Simplifying, and going without has been my mantra the last couple years, so I’m way ahead of the curve I suppose.

It is still soothing, you know, planning what I’m going to eat, what I need, what I’m running out of. Clip the note on the fridge, is a comforting thing, strangely so.

Still, have a couple of days to go, so I’m bidding my time, building my list.

I will say that I’m cooking more, so that’s a good thing too. Mostly cause I have anxiety just thinking of going to get groceries, or even ordering in seems way beyond the scope of courage I have. So creatively using what I have, and eating better actually than I have been.

Every time I have ventured forth to get groceries, I just grab what little I need, what I can carry in my arms, and get outa der fast as I can. In and out, touching as little as possible, and scoot back home. Phew!

So, my go-to meals have been mostly rice based, you know, chilli & rice, rice on its own, rice with steamed frozen veg. Oh, and pasta, pasta, pasta, with lots of onions, lots of garlic… on EVERYTHING… num num.

Oh, and course, lots of fibre, eating lots of fibre breakfast bars, all the good stuff grandma was always on about that makes for healthy poops… put the precious toilet paper to good use.

You taught me well, you and grandma, I have always had a healthy collection of stuff squirrelled away, rye bread and various veg in the freezer, canned soup, corn and such in the cupboard, even have canned peas, BLAH. But, hey, they’re good for me, eh mom? And I might even have to gag down more than the usual 5.

Yeah, well, I still hate peas, so they are absolutely, completely, totally a last resort.

And, of course, I have a treasure chest of stuff in my junk drawer, plus plastic containers I’ve saved, you know, all the stuff that has a ‘I should keep that‘ sort of vibe.

Funny though, that over the last couple years it’s like I’ve been preparing for just this sort of thing. Well, not THIS, per se, but I just had a sense that I was due for another spell of rainy days… and here we are.

Yeah, being the granddaughter of a woman who went through the depression and WWII is paying dividends.

Another thing that I find rather satisfying, soothing actually, is washing my cloths in the bathroom sink by hand.

Besides being an excellent upper body work out, it is this sort of mind-numbing work, it hits me at many levels, but the repetition gets me into this state where I find myself lost in the task at hand, standing at the sink, legs apart, posture upright, kneading, and kneading the cloths, rinse, repeat. Warm water runs, scrubbing, kneading some more, scrubbing, kneading… over and over till the water runs clear.

Hanging to dry, lighting sage incense to freshen all the air in the apartment, and I feel the anxiety drift away… most of it disappearing down the drain with the dirty water.

So, for some reason I was up in the middle of the night. Well, some reason being anxiety I guess.

Body woke up at 1:30 am, and the mind followed seconds later, wide-eyed and busy sort of awake, the sort of awake where you know that you’re not going to be able to lie back down… too jacked up. I mean, when I started this letter, morning was still hours off.

Sitting here listening to CBC Music, thankful for the company overnight. All Canadian stuff, so it’s a treat, hearing new music, new musicians, a real good vibe in the air.

Scrolled through twitter earlier and noticed #noCanadian is trending, as the stupid orange poop stain down yonder had said something about sending troops to the Canadian border, for what friggen reason I have no clue. Why does he do anything? Suppose its just his incompetent boob move to distract his base.

Frankly, I still kinda find it hard to believe they’d be so dumb to think we’d want to go to Disney World during a Pandemic… cause… like, we stupid?

Like, #noCanadian in their right mind, or the wrong mind for that matter, but not one single person in the world probably right now would want to set foot in that country.

What stuns me most, is even amongst my own small circle, I have a #covIDIOT. Maybe a bit harsh, but she texted me the other day wanting to know if I wanted to go with her to drop off some stuff for a friend that lives in the North end of town.

Like, seriously. What part of physical distancing does she not understand?

Well, I almost told her to get the FOK lost, but dear lord and baby Jesus, what in the living hell in a handbasket doesn’t she get about all this? Its like she lives in two worlds – on the one hand she emails me facts and stuff on the virus, texts me concern for her dad whose now in a nursing home thats on lockdown, and the next she wants me to go with her on a car ride cross town, breathing the same air in a confined vehicle???

Ah, HARD NO.

I mean, there is no way in gawds green earth I am going anywhere near her till this virus is on its way out.

Yet, yet… she is not alone. There are still those who just do not seem to have the capacity to handle the seriousness of all this. For some reason she is part of this group who just can’t seem to wrap their head around just how dangerous it is to be out and about, visiting random people, spreading it around possibly unknowingly, and possibly even killing someone.

Sorry, not very tolerant right now, I just can not be around stupid. I have no time for stupid. I’m not that keen on stupid at the best of times.

Oh, but a crisis does seem to shine the light and illuminate the stupid… case you had any doubts.

Chihuahua puppy

An advantage I have over most is that my interaction with other humans since my job ended has been very limited, hallelujah, and blessed be small mercies. Plus, I am practically hermetically sealed in my little abode, and I’ve rarely ventured forth past my stoop, and I’ve had no visitors in almost a week and a half.

I guess this has genuinely become my Temenos, sacred space, somewhere I can be myself, by myself, em… me and the dog.

So, that’s all for now.

Sharing with you a part of my lockdown calming elements – all the usual suspects – plants, herbal tea, puppy dog tails, and the CBC on the radio.


LOVE paula

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