You Are Human, Not a Robot
This is for the people who are tired of pretending that the past two years have not been devastating. For those who can’t sleep at night, so you stir in your bedroom or make trips to the kitchen out of boredom.
No. You are not crazy, broken, or lazy. You are responding predictably to constant change. Some people don't feel things as deeply as you do, so they seem unfazed. Others do not want to be vulnerable or don’t feel comfortable sharing their emotions so you rarely know how they truly feel. And those who make you feel like you're being dramatic for experiencing depression from the impacts of a global pandemic are suffering in their own way.
The Day that Never Ends
The heaviness sets in moments after you open your eyes in the morning and the dream haziness evaporates. That’s when reality plops its weight across your chest that the day will be a repeat of the last five hundred.
While you are working you begin wondering if you’ll ever get a break from seeing other people suffer or from having to care about a job that wouldn’t exist if we only did what matters most. Thoughts you used to have about the future were once filled with excitement but now seem pointless.
I used to have dreams and goals for what I wanted in my life. But after two years of white knuckling it through the days and weeks, it’s difficult to imagine it. Now, my thoughts race throughout the day.
Will the world exist in 5 years?
Maybe I should shower today
But I showered yesterday so I’ll just brush my teeth.
Did I eat?
Why can’t I focus on this task?
Why is sending one email so hard?
I wonder if my brain matter bubbled into mush because I can’t form a complete thought.
What would happen if a civilian war broke out in the US again?
Would we watch it through a live stream while we’re typing emails at our desk?
Maybe I should take a walk and get an iced coffee.
Let me post this, #PrayforUkraine.
Now I celebrate if I brush my teeth because after panic attacks, doom scrolling violence, and gaslighting each other about our emotions, I have limited energy to care or feel. Reminder notifications ping my phone alerting it’s time to eat because sometimes the hunger queues don’t make me nauseous anymore.
Maybe Something’s Wrong with Me?
During freshman year of the pandemic, I thought something was wrong with me because I couldn’t concentrate on work. I wasn’t sleeping and food that usually brought me pleasure became a chore.
When I signed into work, most people seemed to be functioning and focused like robots. I couldn’t comprehend how I felt miserable and others were surprised I was impacted.
I couldn’t focus because Breonna’s apartment wall received more justice than her. I tried to run away from the videos of George but couldn’t escape the 9 second clip.
Reports of lynchings surfaced across the U.S. while most of our major cities were at war. I lived in Boise, Idaho where cul-de-sac domestic terrorists foamed at the mouth to spew their inherited violence.
Everyday news reports of COVID deaths increased in parallel to protesting masks and debating conspiracy theories. 900,000 Americans have died leaving their families and friends in pieces and we keep moving forward as if it’s nothing.
Then I watched the Capital Riots unfold on livestream sitting in a vendor meeting. I kept thinking, why are we all still working? Why aren’t the executives and leaders saying anything about this right now? Why are we nervously laughing it off like it doesn’t scare us and add to the current stress and anxiety we are already carrying? Why are we pretending like this is normal?
Productivity vs. Humanity
My answer is we are conditioned to achieve productivity despite any emotional, mental, or physical agony. Think about how quickly we expect women who give birth to return to work. Or the co-worker going through a divorce or death of a family member. We give them a few days to grieve but expect them to be productive and professional, essentially numbing themselves.
So it makes sense that when our lives were uprooted by a global pandemic, our response was to push shame, guilt, and fear along with the rest of our emotions, into the farthest corners of our mind. We are told our agony is not more important than our productivity.
Looking back, I wanted to know I wasn’t alone or the only one struggling to concentrate, feeling overwhelmed, and aimless. I didn’t care about being productive when people were dying from a virus. I didn’t care about deadlines when more people were losing their housing. I didn’t care about meetings when I was afraid to go out in public for fear of racism taking my life.
But I had to accept that everyone copes differently and the depths of our feelings vary. I don’t know a single person who has not been impacted from the last two years. And anyone who says otherwise I question their humanity, especially if they make others feel like they are overreacting to the stress, anxiety, and depression the last two years have caused.
You are not broken because you go through waves of feeling numb and anxious. Think about how much you’ve had to endure to survive and the nights spent crying because you were looking for relief.
I want you to know you are not alone and a lot of people are struggling but don’t show it. So when you start blaming yourself for having an emotional response to what is happening in the world, I encourage you to release the idea that something is wrong with you.
We are supposed to have reactions to weeks, months, and years of unprocessed anguish. Remember you are not a robot, you are human.