This self-isolation has me all messed up. The depression is really setting in, despite the fact it is not too unlike the life I had before. I didn't go out much to see friends as it was, aside from a weekly 2-hour trip to Starbucks to catch up with Liz. And the longer this goes on, the less I speak to people, the less I care if I ever do. I'm sad more people don't care to keep up with me and keep me updated on them but at the same time, that all feels exhausting the longer this goes on. I do miss thrift and antique stores. Like, a bunch. And food. Even though I have a love/hate relationship with food.
So yeah, this isn't much different except that I have no work so I have no money coming in thanks to our PO(-UT)S and his "administration". There's so much about this to blame on him. I don't have a word strong enough to describe how I feel about him.
But this post isn't about that. The other differences are that I am increasingly afraid to go out. Not for my sake, but because Brad is immuno-compromised due to his pulmonary sarcoidosis. And he has high-blood pressure so he has at least two co-morbidities thought to worsen the virus symptoms. Plus they now say more men than women are susceptible to worst of the virus so there's that. I'm terrified of him getting it.
And depression is setting in. I feel like a waste of flesh. I have nothing to contribute to the world, to my family, to this life. I have no real great skills or talents. What I do have MAY be slightly above average (not sure about that but I'm holding on to it anyway for the fight against my deteriorating self-esteem) but not great and the ones I do have are not viable when it comes to supplementing my income. I'm not a great writer, I can't influence myself much less anyone else. I've absolutely lost my sense of humor. I mean, I'm probably mildly funny, enough to produce a chuff, but really only when I'm riffing off other people who are funny. I'm mostly dad jokes these day, and those are few and far between.
I've been trying to do a podcast with people who are funny, but there is always some reason it isn't starting. I think everyone has lost interest with the virus but this is the time to do it. People want podcasts right now, especially funny ones. I would think. But I can't carry anything because I'm not that funny.
Ugh. I just feel purposeless and hopeless and scared. I have no idea what the world is going to be like once this is over, if it is ever over. Thanks to the assholes not isolating it may never be over. Hopefully they will be the only ones to get the virus and if it's going to kill it will kill off the stupid. In the meantime, our poor medical workers are the ones paying the real price for the stupid.
Anyway. Also not about that. I'm afraid about money. Luckily Brad has the unemployment coming in but mine isn't yet. And who knows when it will. Haven't seen hide nor hair of the $1200 for either of us. That stimulus money that is supposed to sustain us for ten weeks(!) according to repugnican politicians. That stimulus money that the raging-buffoon-in-office insisted his name be on so it's taking even longer to send out in check form. And I can't get in to put in my direct deposit information because apparently they can't find the data on me? CLUSTER. FUCK.
I think about the things I want to do - get out in the yard and make it prettier, paint, write (doing that now - poorly), yoga, some kind of workout but it all gets pushed out in order to sit on the sofa and play games on my phone. Games that bore me. Social media - if it doesn't bore me to death or dishearten me further makes me furious and unable to fall asleep for forming all the posts in my head I will never publish because why bother. The people who need to read them won't or if they do it will be just to parrot responses rather than comprehend what I am writing.
So yeah. Stream of consciousness I guess. Trying to get it out of my head because depression is a bitch and it's taking its toll on me.
But hey, I did one thing on my list of things I want to do with my downtime, so there's that.
So yeah, this isn't much different except that I have no work so I have no money coming in thanks to our PO(-UT)S and his "administration". There's so much about this to blame on him. I don't have a word strong enough to describe how I feel about him.
But this post isn't about that. The other differences are that I am increasingly afraid to go out. Not for my sake, but because Brad is immuno-compromised due to his pulmonary sarcoidosis. And he has high-blood pressure so he has at least two co-morbidities thought to worsen the virus symptoms. Plus they now say more men than women are susceptible to worst of the virus so there's that. I'm terrified of him getting it.
And depression is setting in. I feel like a waste of flesh. I have nothing to contribute to the world, to my family, to this life. I have no real great skills or talents. What I do have MAY be slightly above average (not sure about that but I'm holding on to it anyway for the fight against my deteriorating self-esteem) but not great and the ones I do have are not viable when it comes to supplementing my income. I'm not a great writer, I can't influence myself much less anyone else. I've absolutely lost my sense of humor. I mean, I'm probably mildly funny, enough to produce a chuff, but really only when I'm riffing off other people who are funny. I'm mostly dad jokes these day, and those are few and far between.
I've been trying to do a podcast with people who are funny, but there is always some reason it isn't starting. I think everyone has lost interest with the virus but this is the time to do it. People want podcasts right now, especially funny ones. I would think. But I can't carry anything because I'm not that funny.
Ugh. I just feel purposeless and hopeless and scared. I have no idea what the world is going to be like once this is over, if it is ever over. Thanks to the assholes not isolating it may never be over. Hopefully they will be the only ones to get the virus and if it's going to kill it will kill off the stupid. In the meantime, our poor medical workers are the ones paying the real price for the stupid.
Anyway. Also not about that. I'm afraid about money. Luckily Brad has the unemployment coming in but mine isn't yet. And who knows when it will. Haven't seen hide nor hair of the $1200 for either of us. That stimulus money that is supposed to sustain us for ten weeks(!) according to repugnican politicians. That stimulus money that the raging-buffoon-in-office insisted his name be on so it's taking even longer to send out in check form. And I can't get in to put in my direct deposit information because apparently they can't find the data on me? CLUSTER. FUCK.
I think about the things I want to do - get out in the yard and make it prettier, paint, write (doing that now - poorly), yoga, some kind of workout but it all gets pushed out in order to sit on the sofa and play games on my phone. Games that bore me. Social media - if it doesn't bore me to death or dishearten me further makes me furious and unable to fall asleep for forming all the posts in my head I will never publish because why bother. The people who need to read them won't or if they do it will be just to parrot responses rather than comprehend what I am writing.
So yeah. Stream of consciousness I guess. Trying to get it out of my head because depression is a bitch and it's taking its toll on me.
But hey, I did one thing on my list of things I want to do with my downtime, so there's that.
Comments
Post a Comment