I almost started this post with “Good morning,” but I caught myself—it’s one in the afternoon right now. We’re only on day two or so of the officially requested shutdown and reordering of our lives—social distancing—and my concept of time and normalcy blurred a little bit on me. I think that’s all of us right now. When we’re done with this, in however many weeks or months that is, a whole new segment of the population will have intimate knowledge of what dissociation means.
I talked with a friend on the phone today who told me he’s being careful to keep his household on a functional, “normal” schedule. Sleep at night, be active during the day. Lunch at lunch time. Those kinds of measures. I couldn’t agree more.
So good afternoon, babies: how are you?
I’m hanging in. I took a break all week from medicating with cannabis because I have an upper respiratory infection, and I try very hard to not smoke when my sinuses, throat, lungs—any of the things that take hits when you smoke anything—are dealing with bio- anything. I finally smoked some Snowdawg Killer yesterday evening while I watched a live stream from the bands I had planned to go see live last night before I accepted it was time to shut things down for the duration. I don’t know what the duration means. No one knows. That uncertainty is so fucking heavy, and if ever there was a time to embrace some 12-step shit, it’s right now. Let go and let God (or god/Goddess/Science/Allah/The Universe/take your fucking pick—just understand that you’re not in control of how long there won’t be concerts and vacations, and no amount of worrying can change that. I know it’s hard, and my ability to cope with it and how I’m processing that can fluctuate. Just hold tight. We’re all here. If you slip and get choked with worry, it’s okay. You’ll come back. Tell someone if you think you’re sliding).
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to do that.
Holding off on medicating for six days gave me the peace of mind that I was doing everything I possibly could to allow my body to fight off the virus inside it. It preserved my weed stash, lowered my tolerance to THC, and deepened my appreciation for the euphoria I felt after smoking. Win win win.
Last night was the first time all week that I’ve been able to relax. I felt peaceful. I put on a movie and got cozy in my bed, and I watched it all the way through, then I slept deep. No waking up at 3 or 4 a.m. Straight through, midnight-ish until almost 8 this morning.
I sauteed chicken breast for breakfast because it needed to be cooked—I defrosted it two days ago—and I thought it would be good for the kids and I to fill up on some animal protein and amino acids.
In a little while, I’m taking the tribe to the woods. We all need sunshine and fresh air. That, along with routine, is a key tool for me in keeping me and mine functioning over here.
I’m so accustomed to being hyper-vigilant about my mental state (and those of children and anyone else around me), that I feel like the COVID-19 Social Distancing Shutdown (please suggest any catchy name that comes to mind) might be my/our time to shine. Hear me out.
Those of us who practice constant self-awareness understand the inherent mental dangers of isolation, self-imposed or otherwise. We know what it can do, so we’re in this advantageous place of being able to actively work against that damage. We know how to do this. Read that again. We. Know. How.
There are people out there—friends, neighbors, workers—who might not even know that they’re getting a little weird right now. Be kind with them. Show them compassion. And like I said up top, if you feel yourself starting to get a little symptomatic, tell on yourself then treat yourself to the same kindness and compassion I recommended you give to others. Sad Tribe, Scared Ones, all of us can actually use our weird shit to be helpers right now.
So fuck.That’s kind of all I have left right now. Just fuck. These are crazy times. But we’re gonna be okay.
Love love. I’m headed to take a shower, because the apocalypse is not a reason to grow out my armpit hair.