I have been so hesitant to share that I traveled home during this uncertain time — that I left the “epicenter of the pandemic” and broke stay-at-home rules, as I got on a plane to escape the city that I love so much.
A part of me felt defeated, like I was giving up, going home, running away to the safety of a small town, with my parents, and the comfort of someone else to look after me.
In the beginning, staying in new york felt like a non-question. I was still working five days a week, and had no problem spending the majority of the time alone, in my room, with ample time to myself.
Although, after I was furloughed from my job last week, and faced the uncertainty of unemployment for the foreseeable future, as well as the mounting pressure in the city to stay inside, to isolate, protect yourself and others at all costs, and the dystopian/great depression-like grocery store lines and closed businesses, I felt like I needed to escape.
While everyone on social media has been preaching “self care” and mental health, as usual, I realized that staying in the city under the current circumstances, was no longer in my best interest. I had spent almost a month straight in my apartment, only leaving a handful of times to exercise or get groceries. As time went on, more and more people reached out, to check in, asking how things were in “the big city”, and I’d joke that I didn’t know, all I saw was the four walls of my apartment. But with every check-in and worried text, I remembered the escalating chaos in the world. I remembered what a massive affect this will have, even after each country’s “peak” has passed, and I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. I would do just about anything to distract myself from this reality, and being in nyc, watching the numbers climb, and the hospitals fill, and the makeshift tent hospitals and morgues go up, it felt relentless.
So I went home.
I got a plane ticket, packed my bags, put on my mask, and did what I could to follow the social distancing protocol to the best of my ability. I had weighed the pros and cons of staying, thinking of being one less person who could potentially add to the overwhelmed hospitals, but also potentially being a carrier and bringing something home that could unknowingly infect my family, who are essential workers and still going to their jobs. Eventually, I made the, ultimately selfish and privileged decision to leave, and I have felt significantly more peace here in the past few days. I can sleep through the night without having nightmares or waking up to the endless stream of sirens. I can go about the monotonous, and often pointless feeling, daily tasks without feeling like I want to run away.
I try not to think of what this will all mean for our futures.
I try to avoid the anxious-planner thoughts that try to map out every possible scenario and mentally prepare for any and all outcomes.
I try to stay positive and thankful for the privilege that I have.
Hopefully, sooner than later we will get through this.
While it hasn’t impacted everyone in the same ways or to the same capacity, we are all in it together.