The Year of Languishing

"One Day at a Time" is not just a TV show.

Is this you?

Some days, I feel like I've been in a foxhole for the past 16 or so months, hiding from the incoming artillery exploding overhead.  The shrapnel never touched me directly, but it hit people I know or the families of people I know, killing several people, and sickening others. At least one took many months to fully recover.

I knew I was fortunate.  I didn't have to go into my office to work (unlike others I knew, who had a job impossible to do from home.)  I'm retired and working part time.  I was able to "shelter in place" and take advantage of senior hours at stores.

Now, the bombardment has stopped.  But is it for good, or just for now?

I wait, and I peek my head above ground.  Is it safe?  I have my shield (aka vaccination) in place.  Shouldn't I be out dancing in celebration and running to embrace my old life, the life that included (sometimes) having people over, working in an office, traveling, occasional eating out, visiting family in other places...all those things we took for granted once upon a time.

I've taken steps out of the foxhole.I've gone to stores I haven't been in since March of 2020. I've been to all our local libraries now and marvel at the changes they had to make. (One remodeled, and got a paint job, and has outside tables - it was amazing.) Yesterday, my spouse and I ate out for the first time - I mean an actual meal, not an ice cream cone or takeout meal.  No, a meal.  With a server waiting on us.  It was outside on a patio, but still.

After the meal (this was a brew pub that was built at our local mall during the pandemic, and it is beautiful) we went into the mall.  For the first time since February.  Just to see what it was like in there now.  

But....

Thinking of travel anywhere jangles my nerves.  It feels like I'm planning a major military campaign.  I've cancelled a day trip to a destination an hour and a half from here.  Twice.  And, at that, much of the route is familiar to me.  Or was, until last March.

Some days, it's hard to focus. I don't seem to have ambition.  I don't check in with people I know, and they aren't checking in with me, either.   It isn't depression (which I am familiar with) - I get great joy from our bird feeder, from my flowers, from perfect lighting for a picture.  

Recently, I found the word for my feelings.  It was made popular by a New York Times article, which I  read a summary of but I think this link (the NY Times is behind a paywall) says it all.

Languishing.  I am languishing.   

Was I the only one languishing?  I know now that, in the midst of the crowds of people seemingly embracing every part of "returning to normal", I'm not the only one languishing.  I'm in good company.

Knowing the name of how I feel makes me feel a lot better.  I know now to be kind to myself. My spouse is kind, too (especially every time I'm hesitant to do something).   One step at a time.  Challenge myself in small ways daily.

That's why we ate lunch out earlier this week, and then we (I was the one who suggested it!) took that walk around the mall.

OK, at least three people I know traveled on planes in the last two weeks (all domestic flights), but I'm not ready for indoor crowds.

Even someone I know who has been on long trips a couple of times admitted to me she has some of the same symptoms as I do.

We are all traumatized in some way.  We will climb out of the foxhole one day and view the light with wonder  Maybe this blog post will become part of a historical record.  I'll reread it years from now, and smile at what my future self has accomplished.

Maybe one day soon...I'll take that hour and a half trip.  It will be wonderful.