We are now 348 days into quarantine.

We are now 348 days into quarantine.

And somehow I’m, like, okay.

I thought at first it was because we gradually went to work from home. We started with 3 days a week at home. Then we went to only going in once a week so we could stagger days. Now only one person from each part of our team comes in once a week so we go about 8 weeks between office visits. It was a weird adjustment but I’m kind of glad we had the slow crossover. It kind of slowly lowered me into the burning building of COVID rather than tossing me in directly after dousing it with gasoline.

When it looked more and more like this was going to be an extended time away from friends, away from coworkers, and away from family, I had a conversation with Ben letting him know that I was worried about my mental health. Not that I was in a bad place THEN, but that I expected a crash to happen.


At some point.

I was going to crash.

Except… I never did. And to be 100% honest, I DO NOT FUCKING GET IT.

Long time followers know that I’ve been very open about my battle with depression. I love that when I’m raw and real about it I get comments and messages saying thank you for putting into words how they are feeling. For normalizing the mental illness. For being an advocate. And I have to tell you, I have felt some significant guilt for NOT doing that. For NOT feeling that way. For NOT being that support for others.

But it just… never happened. Maybe it’s the Lexapro? Maybe it’s that I get to sleep longer every day now that I don’t have an hour commute in the morning and have to put like 5% of the effort into getting ready every day. Maybe it’s the feeling of INCREDIBLE PRIVILEGE to have a stable and steady income through a time when a lot of people are really struggling.

I don’t know what it is but I’m ready to stop second guessing it and start trying to process it. In a private friends Facebook group we sometime ask for a mental health check in. A place to sound off, judgement free, letting it all out. I described being really shocked that I am okay. But also that some nights I can’t fall asleep and lie away wondering when the crash is going to happen. What trigger is going to set it off? What random chemical imbalance is going to suddenly trick me into believing that sleeping all day is the only way to stay alive. I haven’t even TAKEN A NAP in months, let alone a depression nap.

I know how lucky I am right now. I had a long conversation with a friend the other day that is not okay. I was able to listen to her and tell her that I know where she is and that I understand how she feels. And I told her that I know there is nothing I can do to fix it, but I promise you, I understand and you are not alone.

If you are there, if your brain is missing the chemicals you need, please know that I am safe harbor. I GET it. I KNOW where you are. I can’t fix you, I know better than to try, but I can HEAR you. Shit still really sucks right now and I don’t know when it’s going to get better and I also know that even when everything is going perfectly in your life, you can still be There. In that shitty dark place where your brain tells you lies.

I hope you’re all okay. Wear your masks. Wash your hands. Stay the fuck away from people that don’t live with you. And take care of yourself and your mental health in the best ways that work for you.

Nobody wants to read dumb words.

When people tell me that I share too much online I send them a link to the photos from inside my colon. I get the oversharing seems to be a new topic still for a lot of people because they think that the internet started when Facebook was created but the archives from this blog go back 18 years. My blog is now legally allowed to vote.

It’s a fully year older than Facebook. A full two years older than YouTube. A full three years older than Twitter.

Where am I going with this? I don’t know. I seriously have no fucking idea. The other day Jem tweeted that she wanted to blog more this year and SAME. I just don’t know where to start or how to get back into it again. It was much easier when we weren’t living in the midst of a global pandemic and we actually, like, DID STUFF. But we weren’t in a pandemic when we went to Germany or Amsterdam or New Zealand or Mexico (many times) and I didn’t blog ANY of that so…

I feel like I lost my voice. People have told me how much they love reading my words and now my words just get stuck in my brain and when I try to get them to flow out my fingers they muddle and seem irrelevant and dumb nobody wants to read dumb words.

I think some of my best writing has been when I’m suffering from debilitating depression. Oddly being socially isolated from all my family, friends, coworkers, and ALL OTHER HUMANS hasn’t spiraled me into a dark hole of despair. YAY! I guess? Not really offering up much self deprecating blog material though.

Anyway, this was just a lot of nonsense words to say I guess I’m going to try more. In the meantime, you can go look at the other set of photos from inside my colon, only with more infection and sores. Quality content, in other words.