Pandemic Insights

Who Am I During a Pandemic?

Since March, I’m not myself anymore. Or am I more myself?

Photo by David Cohen courtesy of Unsplash.com

Who am I?

All my life, I’ve been an early riser. There was a magical time in Wyoming (I was in my thirties) when I would just wake up at 4am, go outside in the cold, dry, black night and chop kindling for the fire inside my teepee (just outside the house). I would build the fire, strike a match, wrap a blanket around my shoulders and hunker down to drink in the heat of it.

It was the only time of the day when I could be alone with my thoughts. My kids were three, five and seven, and I was married to my extremely demanding husband who was also my boss. So that 4am ritual was sacred.

In my forties and fifties, I routinely got up at five and that stayed steady until very, very recently.

Noticing changes.

First, I’ve been sleeping in. Like all the way in. Till nine. Till ten on one occasion. What is happening to me?

1. Depression is one answer, and sure I had a big kapow of it in February/March of this year, but that’s not all of it. The Zoloft is helping.
2. The sheer disorientation of our way of life right now — the Groundhog Day sameness of every day combined…