"Do you know the things I used to think about? I used to think about song lyrics. I used to think about nature, and Latin, and the architecture of the buildings I saw when I went on long walks (back when I could go on long walks). I thought about the etymological roots of words, and people I had crushes on, and beautiful melodies, and books that moved me, and NPR stories, and The Odyssey, and so forth.
But not anymore! Now I just think about all the people who are trying to kill me."
I actually still think about most of the things you listed (song lyrics, nature, etc.) these days, while also taking practical measures such as wearing respirators in all public indoor spaces. Sure, I also think about covid on a daily basis, but not so much that it crowds out pretty flowers.
It helps a lot that I live in a household where everyone takes covid seriously and takes reasonable measures to keep it out. That means my home feels like a safe space, both in the sense that I don't believe I'm going to catch any airborne viruses here, and emotionally safe in that the people I live with validate my concerns. Sometimes I do stop 'doomscrolling' and absorbing so much covid-related content because, unless there's a major scientific advance or a major change in society (such as having good ventilation and/or air filtration in all public indoors spaces), I'm not going to change my everyday choices (and if there is such a major change, I think I'll find out without constant updates). If I lived alone and had no one to offer in-person moral support, or worse, if I lived with people who minimized covid, it might be harder to hold headspace for the beautiful things in life. Oh, and while I have health problems, I don't have long covid, which also makes everything easier.
I live alone, and I can confirm that it's hard to feel so isolated. None of the people I see regularly are particularly Covid conscious (they say that they're following CDC guidelines) so I really am alone. It makes me feel like I need to be always on guard, because no one else has my back. It can be miserable for my mental health.
"Do you know the things I used to think about? I used to think about song lyrics. I used to think about nature, and Latin, and the architecture of the buildings I saw when I went on long walks (back when I could go on long walks). I thought about the etymological roots of words, and people I had crushes on, and beautiful melodies, and books that moved me, and NPR stories, and The Odyssey, and so forth.
But not anymore! Now I just think about all the people who are trying to kill me."
I actually still think about most of the things you listed (song lyrics, nature, etc.) these days, while also taking practical measures such as wearing respirators in all public indoor spaces. Sure, I also think about covid on a daily basis, but not so much that it crowds out pretty flowers.
It helps a lot that I live in a household where everyone takes covid seriously and takes reasonable measures to keep it out. That means my home feels like a safe space, both in the sense that I don't believe I'm going to catch any airborne viruses here, and emotionally safe in that the people I live with validate my concerns. Sometimes I do stop 'doomscrolling' and absorbing so much covid-related content because, unless there's a major scientific advance or a major change in society (such as having good ventilation and/or air filtration in all public indoors spaces), I'm not going to change my everyday choices (and if there is such a major change, I think I'll find out without constant updates). If I lived alone and had no one to offer in-person moral support, or worse, if I lived with people who minimized covid, it might be harder to hold headspace for the beautiful things in life. Oh, and while I have health problems, I don't have long covid, which also makes everything easier.
I live alone, and I can confirm that it's hard to feel so isolated. None of the people I see regularly are particularly Covid conscious (they say that they're following CDC guidelines) so I really am alone. It makes me feel like I need to be always on guard, because no one else has my back. It can be miserable for my mental health.
It's amazing how the CDC provides such a smokescreen for terrible behavior. It really does leave one fighting on all fronts.