I wasn’t going to mention this information publicly unless and until a few things happened, but with all that’s going on, I think it’s important to move up the timeline. See, I’ve been sitting here with everyone else, watching the infection and death numbers rise and fall, and more importantly, watching everyone on social media pontificate.
“We need to stop COVID-19 at all costs.”
“Stop being selfish and self-important and stay home.”
“It’ll be worth it in the end.”
“It’s not about you.”
“Your grandparents were called to war. You’re being called to sit on the couch.”
These voices don’t know the costs. That’s clear in the flippant, dismissive, smug attitude rife on social media these days. I’m convinced if they did, and truly accepted the reality some of us are living and have lived, they’d see a far more nuanced situation.
So here’s my reality.
In early 2014, when my son was just a few weeks old, I was alone. We lived in a town where I knew very few people. My husband was commuting 2+ hours to his new job. The rest of my family was 500+ miles away. I was on maternity leave, without even the coworkers who had kept me sane through 3 years of telework. I was completely isolated with a newborn and my thoughts.
And in the eerie quiet of an almost-empty house, they became terrifying.
I feared drowning him when I bathed him. Or cooking him in the microwave. Or smothering him while he nursed. Or shaking him when he just wouldn’t stop crying. Or, on the rare occasions where I could risk leaving the house with a child who seemed to want to nurse every ten minutes, of driving us both off a bridge.
Those fears waxed and waned, shifted and transformed, and by the time I found the right therapist four long years after he was born, I was miserable. And when she diagnosed me with OCD, when she said my baby hadn’t been in any danger from me, I could have cried. I hadn’t wanted to kill him. My brain just wasn’t working right.
So I did all the things, and I got better. Exposure and response prevention therapy is the gold standard, and I did that, yes—but once I realized my symptoms were almost non-existent when I was in the office in Dallas, I also made every excuse to leave the house. Hard when you telecommute almost full time! I traveled on my own, ate out whenever I could, chatted up every hapless passenger who had the misfortune to sit down next to me on a plane. It was a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this world, and I finally began to heal from the loneliness I’d felt in that silent house.
Then COVID-19 happened.
Now I sit at home, listening to everyone talk about how selfish people are for saying they can’t handle “a few months watching TV.” That by pointing out the impact of quarantine on mental health, we want old people to die in our stead. That we’re regurgitating GOP talking points, our heads firmly up Trump’s rear end. That we’re science deniers.
So let me make this clear:
ISOLATION CAN AND WILL KILL YOU AS SURELY AS A VIRUS. THAT IS ALSO SCIENCE.
Now, six years later, I won’t lie: I’m afraid. I have a husband at home and child who’s now old enough to hold a conversation, and that helps. I have the possibility of a medical certificate out there, keeping me in line. Because exposure and response prevention therapy works, I don’t worry about catching a virus.
But I still wonder how much of this I can take. How long I can watch the world pass me by? How much of my own joy I can sacrifice for people who’d walk over my dead body if they had the chance? How long until I’m no longer able to function at a level required for my job?
And I’m lucky. Not everyone with a mental illness has family with them. Some are alone in small apartments, some are home with a newborn and a father gone to his essential job, some are locked in a psychiatric hospital, some are homeless, doubly effected by the restrictions and their illness. These are ones left behind by restrictive public health orders, and my heart breaks for them.
We’ll never know the number of suicides tied to stay-at-home orders, or the number of marriages and parental relationships ruined. But these people deserve our love and care and protection, too. They shouldn’t be an afterthought.
Further reading:
The Risks of Social Isolation
Isolation Has Profound Effects on The Human Body And Brain. Here’s What Happens
Is there a vicious circle of social exclusion?
Postpartum depression: identification of women at risk
The effect of perceived social support during early pregnancy on depressive symptoms at 6 weeks postpartum: a prospective study
Wow! I feel as if I were reading my own story. I’m interested in knowing more about Exposure Therapy. When K was an infant, I would go out to our balcony but then start panicking so much it had me shaking, because in my head…I pictured her falling over the side to the ground (we were a second floor apartment). I too, as she screamed in the backseat, imagined the car going over the bridge.
Then, I’d go home and feel like I wasn’t good enough to be here mom which spiraled me into the darkest days of my life. I wasn’t a threat to her, thankfully, and her dad was home a lot but it’s scary to think about.
I find myself a little more stable than some, but even I have really horrible days. My heart breaks knowing there are people out there much worse off, struggling right now.
I believe (and this is another thing that could get me laughed at, talked about, and name called for but I don’t care) that we all have a time we are called to die. It’s already planned. If this virus is what is suppose to do that, then we need to accept that. Don’t want to expose yourself, then it’s okay to stay home. But, for many of us…talking to a friend on the other side of the gate could be our saving grace.
I used to be one of those people who HATED those who would get together, and I still think that some people abused the idea of 6 feet apart and social distancing. But, factoring in the mental health aspect of it…I can understand the need to be able to say hello to a friend.
Tomorrow is my birthday. My friend is bringing over a birthday present (I may hug her with a mask on because I almost feel like we both need it…as she’s not doing good at all), and we are going to sit 6 feet apart and chill for about an hour or so.
Being alone with family is great, and I’m so thankful for this time together and we are doing great, but there is a reason God created us to have friends.
Thank you for sharing your story. <3 I understand why you don't want to share it publicly, but I think it's a good one to share. You've inspired a blog post, and I don't mean just this comment HAHA.
Fear of dropping them is SO common, I’ve learned! I used to always leave the house through the garage, because I was afraid of tripping on our front steps.
Exposure therapy is my really bad shorthand for Exposure Response Prevention. Basically, you lean into the fear without neutralizing it with a compulsion. Like, if you have containment OCD, you might touch a doorknob over and over without washing your hands. Since my compulsions are mostly mental, this was really hard to figure out at first, but I started writing little flash fiction pieces of my fears. It kept my mind from wandering to a mental compulsion, and finally it clicked. It’s seriously amazing therapy, but most therapists don’t understand it. I tried so many who just treated it as stress, and the treatments for stress make OCD worse.
https://www.ocduk.org/overcoming-ocd/accessing-ocd-treatment/exposure-response-prevention/
And happy birthday! I hope it’s a great (if physically distant) one.