Close covid quarters: how are you coping?

Under normal circumstances, this year’s Secondary Entrance Assessment (SEA) would have been over, and my son and I would have been relaxed, tanned and returning from a weekend trip somewhere. The numerous hours and stress of preparing for this phase of his life’s journey would have been history and he would have been getting ready for the next phase – when he gets to wear long pants to school. Instead, here we are, not sure of the new date of the exam, still doing past papers, not the least bit relaxed and very much in need of some natural Vitamin D.

This strange situation in which we have found ourselves has brought out so many emotions in so many of us.

“I have this theory that we are all deeply traumatised by covid19 and are going through the stages of grief identified by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Some have expanded it to seven, others to 12 but those five are the core. The experts say it is not linear and you can go through any one or combination of stages at the same time and in any order,” one of my friends posted on her Facebook page.

“Social media has become the space to express some of it and usually without us realising what we are doing,” she continued, and it felt like she was speaking directly to me.

It brought back vivid memories of when I was going through my angry phase on March 21, when, in an unusual move, I had a tantrum on my Facebook page. It was the day on which the nation was informed that 40 of the 68 people who had gone on a cruise and had been quarantined at a facility in Balandra had tested positive for the virus. It was the same day on which it was announced that the TT borders would also be closed to nationals, and I recall the prime minister still having to plead with people to stay at home in order to help curb the spread of the virus.

I was so angry that, I posted, “…You (the cruisers) deliberately put yourselves at risk, and now other people have to pay for your irresponsibility, foolishness and selfishness.” I was angry that I had been religiously following all the safety protocols and there were people out there putting their lives, and by extension my life and my family’s at risk. I thought of my stepfather, who has chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and will most likely not be able to survive covid19 if he contracts it; all the children in my family who are asthmatic; my neighbour’s son who has a respiratory condition; my diabetic friends; and the fact that when I get the common cold it is almost always very bad. My fear fed right into my anger.

Now that I’m at the acceptance phase and not as angry anymore, I am more sympathetic to the plight of the cruisers – those who tested positive and those who remain quarantined at Balandra. For as the therapist with whom my employers were gracious enough to arrange counselling sessions for those of us who are not allowed to turn off the news said, their (the cruisers and those who still refuse to stay at home although their jobs do not fall in the essential category) decision to engage in avoidance coping, a maladaptive form of coping that involves doing things to try to avoid thinking or feeling things that are uncomfortable, are just as common as my coping mechanism at the time – anger.

And this is quite a lot for anyone to have to cope with. This is a novel situation for most of us so it requires a lot of getting used to. The fear that is hanging over our heads as we see the number of people who test positive slowly rising; the isolation; the absence of face to face communication with relatives and friends; the inability to make a quick doubles or beach run on Sunday morning.

Apart from one quick trip to the grocery, my son and I have not left home since March 15. I’m no socialite, but I’d still like to have the option to go out if I want to. Working from home is great, but there are times when I actually want to be at the office interacting with my co-workers, and I know he feels the same way about going to school. Spending time with my son is precious, but there are times when, as an adult, I need to spend some time by myself and with friends. I may not always have extra money to spend on non-essentials, but I do enjoy window shopping.

These days every day seems to be a repetition of the one before, with just a few variables of fun things. The constants are waking up, eating, getting our respective work and chores done, eating some more, watching TV, eating lots of snacks, reading, watering the plants, walking or riding, eating, going to bed. Somewhere in between there we add the fun stuff to the mix. And because the house is always so clean and the cupboards and fridge are filled with supplies, I’m frequently tempted to put up the Christmas tree, order fruit cakes and a few dozen pastelles, and blast parang music until the prime minister declares it safe to go out, and he announces the new date for the SEA exam.