I have a confession to make.
I may have unintentionally manifested an international lockdown.
Six weeks ago, I was telling a friend how I hadn't been home for more than an hour and a half at a time, apart from sleeping, in two full weeks. Between balancing two jobs, picking up extra serving shifts, over-committing to social obligations and using whatever spare time was left to snowboard, my laundry was beginning to pile up. I had a deadline for a freelance project quickly approaching, my taxes needed to be done, and I couldn't remember the last time I cooked anything that wasn't scrambled eggs.
"I just wish I had, like, five days to stay at home and get shit done without having to feel guilty about not using my day off to snowboard," I told her.
Wish granted, I guess, although I'd say the powers of the universe overreacted a little.
Despite this, I didn't exactly react well to society's swift-moving shutdown. I wasn't hoarding toilet paper or breaking down in the middle of a parking lot, but it's pretty much impossible to ignore the overall sense of impending doom while walking through empty grocery store aisles, or finding out mid-shift that the restaurant you work at is closing. Now, five weeks into these physical-distancing measures, I still haven't figured out how to ward off the sympathetic pit I feel in my stomach when a friend tells me their wedding is postponed, or the anxious jitters when hearing just how far revenue has fallen at my remaining job, let alone the overwhelming heartbreak when reading news articles about families who've unexpectedly lost loved ones to COVID-19.
There's no getting around it: this sucks. I could go on and on about all the negative impacts of this pandemic, but to do so risks heading down a slippery slope that ends in cracking open a bottle of wine at 3 p.m. while watching Dr. Bonnie's daily briefing and furiously Googling banana bread recipes.
That, and I like to consider myself somewhat of an optimist. We might not know when life will return to normal, but worrying about worst-case scenarios or dwelling on the most depressing parts of self-isolation will only make this time even more painful than it already is.
There's scientific proof to back this up: One technique to regulating emotions—which means accepting and processing feelings rather than being overwhelmed by emotions, as clinical neuropsychologist Dr. Vinay Bharadia told our sister paper in Victoria, The Times Colonist—is known as cognitive reappraisal. It entails reinterpreting adverse events to reframe them more positively.
According to Bharadia, the technique is based on the understanding that thoughts, feelings and behaviour are all interrelated, so thoughts influence how one feels and acts. For example, swap out the thought, "I'm stuck in my house" for "I'm safe in the house," he suggested.
So, in the spirit of reframing negative thoughts, I thought I'd share a list of the silver linings I'm focusing on in an attempt to stay moderately sane while self-isolating:
• Living alone? Yeah, it can be lonely. But I don't need to worry about any roommates bringing home the virus, and no one's around to bother me while I'm working.
• Working from home makes me miss my coworkers, but I'm lucky to: A) still have a job, and; B) have one that allows me to work from the safety of my home. Also, sweatpants.
• The fact that both the mountains and B.C.'s provincial parks are closed is understandable, but that doesn't make it any less of a bummer. However, we're incredibly privileged to ride out this pandemic in Whistler, where the air is fresh and nature is easily accessible.
• I miss making plans with friends. I miss drinking Caesars on sunny patios and stopping to pet dogs on the Village Stroll or Valley Trail. But on the upside, no one is expecting me to leave home for any reason, at any point in the day. It's strangely freeing, when you think about it.
• Some friends have also got into the habit of leaving surprises on each other's doormats or car hoods. So far I've landed cupcakes, the best vegan cookies, beer and even a hand-sewn facemask. It's the highlight of my day every time—somehow, in the middle of a pandemic, a pale ale left on the hood of your car feels even more thoughtful than a friend tossing you a can from their fridge.
• With my family and most friends based in Ontario, I don't get to see or speak with them nearly as much as I'd like to. Now, I don't know when the next time I'll be able to travel back to visit them will be. But none of them are hanging out with each other either, which means the Zoom chats and FaceTime hangs have been aplenty, and I've been able to see faces—albeit virtually—that I haven't seen in months.
So, while you're staying at home, stay informed and stay safe, but don't forget to look on the bright side every once in a while.
