Social Isolation and Depression Concerns Living During COVID-19 Global Pandemic: My Story

You never know what to expect with this crazy virus!

Sorry for this heavy subject. It is necessary for those of us who are currently hurting.

Self-Quarantine and Depression. Name a more iconic duo. Many people continue to experience a mental breakdown during the pandemic; the two are inseparable; for me, they are indistinguishable. Depression sees COVID-19 as its time to shine. A time for it to thrive. Many depressed people have been practicing and preaching social distancing for months and years now. Little did they know that their hard work would pay off by being naturally selected to survive a future global pandemic. COVID-19 is mental illness’s biggest ally.

Depression, writes Andrew is “tumbleweed distress that thrives on thin air, growing despite its detachment from the nourishing earth.” It is a pain, not sadness; existence, not passing emotions; “grief out of proportion to circumstance.”

If isolation and social distancing have taught us anything, human connection is important. We are social animals that crave the comfort and endorphins that come with human interaction. So what do we do when this crucial pillar of human existence is ripped from underneath us?

We come crumbling down!

Waking up every morning was hell.

It was like saying, Hey, depression, old pal. I thought you’d skipped town for good.

You know, back when I quit drinking and decided you were a bad influence. I replaced you with daylight, spirituality, and self-care, remember? Started working out and spending my time with Awareness and Presence. Unlike you, they knew how to treat me with respect. Weren’t always trying to rub out my memories and keep my dreams at arm’s length. I thought I made it perfectly clear that you weren’t welcome around here anymore. Yet I keep catching glimpses of you creeping around again, under the clutter in my messy house and behind the quinoa in my secret stash of Oreos.

I felt disconnected from everyone in the house and the world and would often contemplate suicide. Sometimes I would cry, apologize for hitting a sensitive nerve and spend the rest of the night reassuring myself that I could harm myself. However, at least once a day, I’ll think, “I wish I wasn’t alive.” And at the time, I really mean it. But I don’t want to die. I don’t want to take my own life or get an illness that kills me. I just don’t want to be here. I get so overwhelmed that I want to escape. So out of desperation, I start wishing I was dead as I can’t see any other way of not feeling the pain anymore.

I believed I had an anchor. I knew it would hit my family and friends too hard. I knew I didn’t want to do that to them. I was sure, I assured myself.

The guilt makes the suicidal thoughts worse. Feeling like I should be happy puts so much pressure on myself. But emotions can’t be turned on and off like a tap. I am not choosing to be this way because I have no choice. The lack of control makes the thoughts louder and more believable.

If the burden I was carrying wasn’t bad enough. I had to work extra to ensure I didn’t worry others about my problem. To contain my sorrow in a corner so that others don’t get scared and run away.

It’s like being locked inside a one-way mirror box. You can see outside, but no one can see inside you.

The overpowering feeling of not wanting to be here and the overwhelming feeling of not wanting to leave my family is torture. I understand why some people kill themselves for the first time in my life. Being able to understand that is not something I expected when I became a mother. No one tells you about the dark places your mind can take you.

To make others comfortable, you have to minimize the problem. You can’t share the full extent of it for fear you’ll hurt them, or they’ll worry about you. Or they’ll lock you up. All understandable fears give people’s poor understanding of mental illnesses. It’s like being locked inside a one-way mirror box. You can see outside, but no one can see inside you. It’s dark, cold, and lonely in there. And you’re busy telling people it’s not that bad. They’ll come in if you convince them it’s not that bad. Or they won’t walk too far away. Still better to have them around than not at all.

You’re like a broken doll nobody wants to play with until it gets up and fixes itself already.

It’s not that bad. It’s way worse.

The cost of social isolation for people has been high suicide rates. When we cannot express how and what we feel, we turn those feelings on ourselves or take them out because we don’t have the words to express the pain and despair they might be feeling.

You don’t want to examine yourself too closely. You don’t want to discuss or experience uncomfortable topics or emotions. You adamantly decline to discuss your crumbling house. As a result, you are fixated on the issues with the yard. You assert that it must be the government, the weather, or the traffic. The absence of oxygen in the air and gravity are to blame. You have the impression that you require various weather and atmospheric circumstances.

If you wake up and feel great, thank the heavens. Because people are going through hell!!