Futility, Rage, Self Pity and other Party Games in Plague Time

I keep feeling at least a little bit like: "welcome to my world." The past few years have been bewildering, heart breaking, unrelentingly isolating, weirdly futile, super productive but to no discernible end, existentially challenging and increasingly unpredictable and weird. So, as the pandemic unfolds across the land, oddly enough, it all just seems to entirely fit the whole pattern of my life since approximately January 2017. 

My sister had a jagged meltdown last night, caused by having to order printer ink cartridges and her plan of buying them at the Pennsylvania Wal-Mart probably being foiled by the entire state going on lockdown. We both were trying to figure out if the housewares or office suuply sections of Wal-Mart would be open or if only the grocery store would be, when she tumbled into angry, self pitying, suicidal despair. "I don't want to keep living, This is all bullshit and totally pointless. Just when we think we have something figured out, along comes some other stupid bullshit. I just want to catch this virus and die. I wish I could trade places with someone who has it right now, who wants to live."

I simply stood, witnessing, occasionally saying validating things. My own suicidal impulses and despair have prepared me to stand with someone who falls into it. I had nothing consoling, reassuring, or helpful to offer, nor did she want that. It was one of those hot moments where a person simply needs to fall apart in the company of another person. I am still feeling rattled by it, especially because it was an opportunity for me to witness my own loneliness, sense of futility, despair, and rage, but outside of myself, on display, performed by another person. I am still unpacking my various reactions and responses and noticing that I definitely tend to want to jump in and fix this kind of suffering for others, while I am quite familiar with it and often live with it in myself. 

One thing that looms in my own mind is some judgment that, if only she were able to access sadness, sorrow, and tenderness, and simply grieve in those ways, the razor sharp, cutting, enraged, self pitying experience would be healed, or at least greatly relieved. In looking at that, I realize this is my own experience, and may well not be true for all. Instead of judging, it's more useful to learn about myself in this, and just let other people do whatever the hell they need to do whenever they need to do it. 

Apart from my sister's suffering, I have had a challenging time not worrying about a particular person who is in home health care, as well as all of my other health care friends. The inexcusable situation where health care workers have no legit protection has me enraged. If the bribers in charge send me money, I am going to use a shit ton of it to purchase and distribute N95 respirators. 

Another strange thing is simply watching the social aspects of the pandemic unfold on Facebook, in particular. I knew, about a week ago, that shit was going to get super weird, and of course, it has, in a variety of ways. Mostly I have been grateful to have the connection at all but have definitely needed to quarantine myself from too much stupidity and ignorance. 

I did not expect loneliness to hit me as hard as it has the past week. I suddenly had a fantasy of being in quarantine with a lover, or a little family, and it has stuck with me. It's of course not what is happening. It keeps popping up like it would be preferable to my situation. I miss physical touch so much it takes my breath away. It doesn't help to be recalling the experience of connection that could not be continued. I am not summoning those memories; they are invading like love armies. It's inconvenient and painful af. 

Meanwhile I am swimming up through about 80 feet of sludge every day to write, apply for jobs (16 rejections so far! hooray!), meditate, and work out. I've been shopping, cooking and cleaning for my sister, and doing things for her she can't do. She is more disabled than I realized and of course in her grief and anger her mind is not all that together either. Last night, for example, she couldn't figure out exactly which ink cartridges fit her printer. She couldn't figure out how to delete a text from her phone. She couldn't figure out how to unsubscribe from the automated prescription drug notifications from CVS. These experiences enrage her, and my role is often to just be level, mollifying, and show her how to do these things. Even then, she is overwhelmed and says things like, "thanks, but I'll forget all of this anyway." Her experience right now is that everything in life is fucking miserable and pointless. As I said above, I am simply a radically validating witness, and that is that. 

It's beautiful here though. Cold, grey, early early early spring. The first day after the equinox, of course.