I want to take time to also display some of my creative work on this blog. Some story telling I’ve done. This piece was an assignment I did at the height of zoom learning, it makes me reflect on the time that we had inside. Although morbid, I think it forced me to sit back and think about details of my day. The details of life indoors, and how much I took advantage of the life I once knew.
(Warning: this is intensely melodramatic so read at your own discretion)
Here it is:
“Waking up another day realizing the absence that manages to meet me continuously. A familiar face meets me, yet it feels nothing like what I once knew. I feel this numbness coursing through me. Again and again. Each day the same. I wake, I stare silently. Wondering when the miserable repetition will end. I lay still for a while, the white ceiling staring back at me. Each of the cracks and ridges in the paint look like a different kind of smirk, laughing at me. I squint, I sigh, I rub my eyes, and then slowly and reluctantly I sit up. I sigh again as I ruffle the sheets searching for my phone, already buzzing. Buzzing. Through grinding teeth I mumble, “What else do we have to talk about?” Each morning I toss my phone ever so slightly. My intentions never to break it but it’s the only item I can think of to take out my frustration on. Sliding out from under my covers the chill of the air hits me. First my toes, then my legs, up to my arms, but never my face. Arms up, I stretch, I let out this muffled scream. A growl almost. This has become the only way I know how to express my frustration. As I stand up I start to close my eyes and tie my hair in a bun, a bun that my hair has known now for two hundred and fourteen days. I slide my feet into my slippers and walk towards my closed door. My reflection meets me. Dark circles under my eyes, a miserable bun, the endless pajama wardrobe. The slippers. Polka dots. Ugly, stupid, polka dots. I smile to remind myself what that looks like and then I slowly open the door.
Outside of my bedroom feels like an alternate universe. I hear everything you possibly can. The dripping of the water, the humming of the refrigerator, the fork hitting the plate as someone sits at the table eating their breakfast. And right before they notice me I run into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I turn on this bathroom sink with the pressure so high I can’t hear my own thoughts. Splashing my face with freezing water in hopes it will catch up to the rest of my body. And then I brush. I brush as I stare at myself, emotionless. I have yet to figure out whether or not this is odd. But, I wake up each morning wondering if maybe I’ll find something different about myself. A new birthmark, a freckle, a wrinkle. Something permanent. Something to remember. To document the time I spend an entire year indoors. Something to show me that time is in fact moving, that I am…that this is real. And each morning I wake up to nothing. Spit. Smile. Frown. Faucet off. Walk out and say good morning.
My good mornings have become dull, as I am utterly tired of saying it. I make myself an iced coffee. The only real source of joy as I add in a ton of extra nonsense to make me feel real “barista” like. Then my stupid polka dots and I drag the rest of me back into my room. Zoom meetings have consumed the entirety of my energy. My days have become zoom and co. Each activity planned around my newest toxic relationship. I close my door. I sigh. The reflection again. This time she doesn’t smile.
This has been my reality for a long time now. My memories of what life used to be has turned into a fog. Lingering in the air of the same room it once existed in. I cannot answer what the weather is like, what the streets look like, how clean or dirty the trains are, or “what is it like in NYC?” Where they have really gone wrong is when they tell me to just take a walk, how healthy it would be to get out. What they don’t know is each time I have tried I have needed to rush home because I cannot breathe. Anxiety has consumed me. It looms, it eats at me, it has become the only constant in my life. My jaw is in a permanent clench and my shoulders never before this tense. So, no. Politely, no. The walk I am supposed to be taking is not one that I will be doing today. Besides, zoom needs me.”
If there’s one thing that I know now that I don’t think I realized before is that a lot of our experiences are what we make it. Surely, we had very little to no control over the reality we had this last year. Many people were stuck indoors, and had all forms of cabin fever. But, there are ways that we can work to take control of our minds and bodies and hopefully work to ease the struggle and the hardships.
During this transition back into “normal”, whatever that means or whatever that might look like. My goal is to savor those moments that are small, to savor the things we would not have thought to find joy in before. It’s a learning process, especially during this time of routine and trying to get used to waking up early again. But this is the time we need to take the most advantage of, this is the time to savor, to pause, and to ask ourselves what we want.
I am not totally, and I am not always out of the space I was in above. A lot of last year was difficult and there’s very little ways to diminish or dismiss those emotions. The moral is more to then learn from it and use this time to live fully and live purposefully.
Which moments do you notice you savor daily? What parts of your day are your most sacred?
Gloria Alyssa 