A case of Pandemic Doldrums
I’ve been having a persistent case of Pandemic Doldrums, which is my “official” name for the state of emotional sluggishness if not outright depression brought on by the necessary steps for prevention of COVID-19. Wherever you find COVID, you’ll find Pandemic Doldrums (which is most everywhere.)
In most cases, the symptoms include boredom, apathy, cynicism, irritability, loneliness, depression, and increased consumption of alcohol or comfort food or other numbing/escape strategies. More severe cases are evidenced by the recent media reports of an alarming surge in opioid use and suicide.
The pandemic is requiring us to limit many of our most life-giving behaviors: handshakes or hugs of greeting (even elbow bumps, which aren’t exactly fulfilling, seem risky), extended conversations with a group of friends around a table, seeing and reciprocating the unmasked smile of a passer-by or clerk behind the counter, casual talk at the water cooler at work, visiting a loved one in a care home. In many cases, grandparents are isolated from grandkids for fear of virus spread, and close friends can’t hang out because one of them is regularly at risk of exposure through work or other responsibilities.
And just thinking about it all takes a toll. The simplest tasks demand more planning. For nearly everyone, there is some level of constant anxiety about getting or spreading the disease.
For the first couple of months it was jarring. Then, for a couple of months we all adopted new patterns. Then, the realization that it’s going to be a long haul settled in, and that’s when Pandemic Doldrums began to take hold.
For me, most of the aforementioned symptoms played out in some way or another. And, with the decline in human Interaction I began to lose my own bearings. For the last few months I haven’t felt centered and I haven’t felt fully alive — emotionally, relationally, or spiritually. I haven’t written a blog post since May, largely because I had convinced myself that I didn’t have anything valuable to say.
Only recently did I begin to realize how the long, slow pull of Pandemic Doldrums was impacting me. I knew I needed a spark to reignite hope and a sense of caring. I knew I needed to find a way to recenter myself and reconnect with my truer self and the world around me.
It turns out that a small dose of nostalgia proved helpful. I reread the Narnia books by C.S. Lewis. I have loved those stories since my teen years, and they always give me a sense of connection with what’s good and true — both the stories themselves, and the way they’re told. They rejuvenated me.
It was just enough to get me out of my unhealthy, self-focused funk where I could recalibrate.
Last weekend, I was sitting in quiet contemplation in our backyard early in the morning. I took a few deep breaths and at that moment was keenly aware that the air is an amazing point of connection. We all breathe from the same atmosphere. It is a life source shared by all of us and thus we are all “in” it together. (Feel free to take a few deep breaths right now and consider that.)
I then became aware of the quiet sounds of the morning — a bird chirping nearby, a jet flying in the distance. The air was connecting me via sound to nature as well as the plane. I imagined the passengers sitting in their seats wondering if anyone in their row has the virus, anxious to get to their destination. In those few minutes of reflection, I marveled at how connected we all are.
I live “in” a house, “in” a neighborhood, “in” a town… “in” the world… “in” the universe. But the levels of “in” have only limited meaning until I imagine that I live “with” Linda, and “with” our neighbors, and “with” our friends, and on some level with everyone and everything. The “in” creates connection points, but the “with” is the relationships that provide context and meaning and joy and hope.
The problem with Pandemic Doldrums is that they pull us toward isolation. The antidote is being “with,” and I would argue that the most life-giving form of “with” is when we choose to be “for” those we are with. And that requires effort and action.
It starts with ourselves feeling centered and connected. Then, we have to choose to notice the others around us, see them as human beings (and not some label we might want to attach to them), care about them and hope the best for them — i.e., be “for” them. And, when the situation allows for it, we might even have an opportunity to be kind to them. I guarantee that the Pandemic Doldrums can’t persist in those conditions.
Are you suffering from some level of Pandemic Doldrums? If so, find your way back to your truer self and connection and selfless action. It might parallel my way back, but it might not. You’ll have to discover it for yourself, but it won’t happen without you taking action.
My writing this blog was my first intentional other-oriented action as a corrective to Pandemic Doldrums. What might yours be?