Well, it's been a good couple of months feebly attempting to act all "business-as-usual" as I experienced fleeting moments of feeling like I'm a protagonist in a dystopian sci-fi novel, and feeling broken when I realize that I'm in fact not in one.
I oscillated between caring about how I was going to get my next bubbletea or McDonald's fix (still can't quite believe there existed a moment in time where these comfort foods were not available to us), and thinking about how best I could help communities falling through the cracks especially during this pandemic (these thoughts typically result in me making a monetary donation, though that is undoubtedly the easiest, most low-involvement way to pacify my own guilt more than anything). Yet somehow, all these concerns seemed to take up equal headspace in my consciousness despite their supposed differences in relative importance, which was a tad unnerving—but I guess that happens when one is confined in their room and every situation is reduced to words at a corner of a newspaper. Your sense of prioritization gets all warped and everything's ends up being the next big thing that requires your attention.
I reached a point where I could no longer care about the next headline.
Of course, to have the biggest source of anxiety come from merely reading the text on a page describing a situation far removed from my own life, I'm privileged. I'm not severely impacted by the Covid-19 pandemic, and I'm living in a country that is managing the situation in a reasonably controlled manner. Free vaccines for all would be unheard of in so many other places where basic healthcare rights is already a huge debate in itself.
But I do want to acknowledge 2020 for it's rough patches. It's been a hella bumpy ride. This isn't meant to be a recap of all the terrible things that have happened, but neither do I want future me to look back upon this year with rose-tinted glasses. There'll come a point where the world gets pass this, when people look back and start sharing about how much they've "grown" from this monumental year. I forsee a bunch of advocates touting their new sustainable and mindful practices which they've made into habits throughout this year, which is honestly awesome, but it isn't always healthy to only have role models who emerge from this pandemic with a newfound skill or a "better" way of living. These are badges of honour given out to those who've somehow figured out how to be productive when the world was trying ot put out its multiple fires.
It's OK to not have these things figured out, I know I haven't.
Chasing productivity has been such a daunting task, particularly in a remote work setting. Starting a new job in the middle of a pandemic has made it challenging to behave how I would in a "business-as-usual" situation because I wasn't even sure what that entailed. In my first couple of weeks on the job, I recall attending an internal session conducted on managing 'work-from-home' stress and one of the ways which we could self-identify if we needed professional help was by comparing our current levels of work activity with that in a pre-Covid universe. Unfortunately, that didn't end up being useful for me since I didn't have that benchmark to start with—what now? This feeling of unease wasn't something I immediately resolved and I still don't know what my "normal" levels of function are supposed to be, but over time, I've come to terms with my work performance, and words of affirmation from my supportive team mates do help to soothe my jumpy state of mind.
Above all, this year proved to me that academic or career achievements don't equate to emotional well-being at all. Professional accolades-wise, I'm on an all-time high for sure—officially becoming a graduate and starting a full-time job. Yet, this year also marked the lowest I've ever felt in my entire life from a mental-health perspective. It's been a year of transitions and not feeling in control, so I finally let my emotions get the better of me, something I've been conditioned to take pride in not doing. Despite the fear of sounding cliché, it has really been an ongoing journey of discovering a side of myself that I usually suppress, and I'm grateful to also have avenues to seek help from.
There are only four more sleeps till 2021 and as much as we're all hoping for the world to magically heal overnight as the clock strikes midnight, it's unrealistic. The impact of this pandemic is going to be far-reaching, affecting us deeply even in the year ahead and beyond, so here's wishing for the best and sending strength to anyone out there who might need it.
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