We’re Fine, But We’re Not

We’ll make it through just fine, but that’s really not the point

Mary O'Brien

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Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

I am a (relatively) well adjusted millennial adult with a steady flow of income, a loving and supportive family, a sturdy and committed relationship, a wonderful set of friends, and many hobbies and interests.

I am simply not struggling in the same ways that many others currently are. I have had to adjust, of course, but not nearly as much as my peers have. I’ve done a great deal of remote work before, so working from home is no great feat. As a single mother, I know how to trim a grocery budget like a pro, and as a social introvert (we exist, I swear), I have mastered the art of staying home while maintaining contact.

My mother taught emergency preparedness courses for the Red Cross. I have a bin full of non-perishables and spare batteries at the ready. Twenty-plus years of camping, I can most certainly build my own fire and I absolutely know my way around a map and compass.

Quarantine? Please. I was made for the apocalypse.

But it really doesn’t matter how prepared you are, how many life-saving skills you have in your arsenal, how much you enjoy staying at home, or how many hacks you already have in place for never encountering another human being again.

It’s simply not a normal thing to ask people not to interact with each other.

And no matter how on top of this whole shelter in place thing you may be, it’s okay to acknowledge that this is not normal.

I saw a great post online just a few days after my daughter’s school announced it would close for the remainder of the school year.

It read:

I saw someone say that people who have anxiety aren’t panicking like everyone else is, we’re not out here buying 10+ rolls of [toilet paper] and such, do you know why? This is our normal state. To us the world is ending, every single day. And it’s interesting, watching everyone act the way our brains think on a daily basis. It sucks doesn’t it? To be in this constant state of fear and helplessness. To feel the impending doom, but feel absolutely powerless about it. Welcome to our world. This is our every day.
Sincerely
Everyone with severe anxiety.

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Mary O'Brien

Reader of memoirs, novels, and cookbooks. Writer of lists, essays, and short stories. If I’m not baking, I’m running. If neither, I’m in personal crisis.