I don't know what I'm trying to write.
Nothing I could ever write would heal this kind of hurt. And yet here I am trying to make some sense of it all. Or maybe not make sense of it, just... I dunno. Throw my thoughts into the void.
Everything has happened so fast. Two weeks ago, we all happily left for spring break without a care in the world. Some of us came prepared for the worst, others did not. I have attempted to take every step with grace, but have not been so successful. First, the rumors. Then memes, warnings, emails followed. News headlines flashing COVID-19, Coronavirus, Global Pandemic. It just doesn't go away. Hasn't gone away. Week two in self-quarantine trying to keep clean, trying to keep sane, trying to make the aches of missing you all go away.
I think I told myself to write this as an attempt to journal my way through the outbreak. People kept journals during the World Wars, during the Great Depression, during the Spanish Influenza—why should this be any different? Our world is at war with a virus we don't yet know how to beat. It's perhaps our scariest enemy yet. And while I don't think it productive to fall into a complete state of panic, people need to do better. Wash your hands. Stay home. Practice social distancing. Remain six feet apart. Don't hoard supplies. Be a decent fucking human being. We are all hurting. We are all scared. At least be kind.
Things are scary right now. They are. Between trying to navigate the transition to online classes, to figuring out where I was gonna live, to making sure my parents were safe, to scrubbing my hands raw, to battling with loneliness in isolation, to wondering what I'm gonna do when my medication runs out, to attempting to function at all like a regular human being... It just... It's a lot. I've been fortunate enough to be able to stay with Linnea's family in MA for the time being. YD is doing the same with a friend from RISD. Javi and Mami are stuck in the DR apartment. My dad is in VT working the frontlines every day as a retail employee at a pharmacy. Talk about modern-day soldiers.
There has been so much uncertainty and so much distress on all fronts. So much is out of our control. I've tried focusing on the little tiny baby things I do have control over (like eating and sleeping, showering and brushing my teeth, going for a walk or at least looking out the window) and yet I still can't seem to do them all enough. Evan's been pushing me to stay on top of it. Linnea's been trying to keep me sane. Vassar students everywhere are scrambling—for their belongings, their GPAs, their friends, their canceled graduations. Professors and administration can barely keep up with the ever-changing news. Entire states are being shut down left and right. Outside feels like a ghost town. Still, the only way out is through.
When things are scary and frightening and uneasy and unknown, I find it comforting to revel in the small things. Like raspberry jam on toast. And crossword puzzles. A weighted blanket for bed. Hamster feet. Hugs of every kind. Facetime. Fun-filled pasta. Rediscovering club penguin. Cooking dinner together. Puppy licks. Disney movies. Children's books. A hot shower. Solitude at 3am. Plants that continue to grow despite it all. I am so lucky to be cared for and healthy and safe. Not everyone can say the same.
Please be kind to yourselves and each other. The world has needed tenderness for some time now. Give it to her.
Hasta la próxima,
Much love xoxo
Maya
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