I am not Okay

If you were to ask me how I’m doing you would get one of several answers, depending on current mood and how honest I feel like being. Surviving. Hanging in there. Taking it day by day. But the truth is, I’m not doing well at all. I know I’m not alone in that. Plenty of people are not doing well. But it’s not the same. For the better part of 2 years we had to constantly be on guard. Make sure Ariella’s counts were okay before making plans. Plans cancelled at the last minute. Vacations cancelled. Witnessing Ariella miss out on the things she loved so much; dance, camp, school. The things we are all missing now. But the difference then was we were alone in it. We were missing life, yet life continued to go on around us. Constant reminders of what we were missing while we were camped out in a hospital room or stuck at home. I know that if Ariella was here it wouldn’t be a walk in the park. I know there would be frustration and complaining and attitude. I understand why parents are anxious and stressed and worried. But you’re not alone in this. There is a solidarity, a comfort in knowing the world is right there with us. I can’t speak for David but I felt very much alone throughout Ariella’s diagnosis and even more alone now, despite the support we have. Because there are few that understand how this situation affects someone who has already experienced significant trauma. PTSD is very real and very prevalent among bereaved parents. Everything about this is triggering. The fear of loved ones becoming ill. The constant reminders of hospitals, life support, ventilators, masks, all of it. Hearing people complain about homeschooling, being stuck with their kids. As I said, I know it’s not easy. I’ve been there, home or at the hospital with Ariella, when she couldn’t go anywhere. It was hard, especially when she knew her friends were doing things without her. But it was also fun, and rewarding, and special. We got creative and crafty. There were game nights and movie nights. Lots of time spent reading together. Please just keep that in mind when about to post on a public forum about how terrible it is. It is terrible in a lot of ways. And there is nothing wrong with venting frustration. But not in a public forum. When so many people wish for a second they were in this with their loved ones, whether a child, spouse, or parent.

It had been questioned if the cure is going to be worse than the problem, in the context of the economy. I have a very real fear about the cure being as bad as the problem, not financially but in terms of mental health. This isolation is going to take its toll on a lot of people and I worry about the emotional suffering people are having to endure. As I mentioned, those who have experienced trauma are likely to be experiencing PTSD or other symptoms of anxiety. Anxiety symptoms are ramped up for those who already had anxiety and those who didn’t seem to worry about anything are now getting a taste of what it’s like to live with anxiety. The world is on edge. Everyone is at the very least unsettled, but there are I’m sure a large number of people having difficulty coping. Even as an introvert I am missing the social interaction and connection. The gym was my release. It was the first thing I got back to after Ariella died and has been the only thing that has made me feel okay. I am grateful to my gyms for doing live stream workouts, but it’s not the same. And though my leg is healing, I still can’t run, which was my ultimate way of forgetting everything else and just being in the moment. I think in the end, some will come out of this much stronger, but others will be traumatized and continue to suffer. I was already suffering, not sure how much more of this fear, uncertainty, isolation, I can handle.