Pandemic fatigue is real.
I imagine we’ll see it in the dictionary someday as a phrase of the times. I am definitely feeling something like stress because of it and am looking for ways to somehow find balance. I haven’t been writing. Even my journaling has gone stale. Without any new stimulus, I keep recycling the same tired thoughts: of frustration, grief, sadness, anxiety.
There is a part of me desperate to remain hopeful as we emerge from this cocoon, but there are days I feel hope fading into the void.
I haven’t gone looking for sadness or frustration. It’s there when I look in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes, hair that needs cutting, an odd shape emerging in a body I have tried hard to maintain in good fitness. I don’t really even know that person anymore. And although I am doing all that I can to stay connected to others, is it enough ?
At this very moment I’m settled on the couch with Gus. He has been sleeping a lot more lately. He’s losing weight and seems needier than usual. Is he sick ? Is he suffering in some way by this altering of his routine ? Is it old age ? Or does he think he’s comforting me ?
He was a rescue. A found cat. We don’t know his actual age although we are guessing it to be around 14. I’ll take him to the vet tomorrow for the obligatory blood work with wellness check. Yoda’s return trip to the vet is Thursday for a follow-up. My days feel punctuated and I have added two more things to my long list of worry: Gus and Yoda.
This graffiti I saw on my walk with Yoda seems fitting.
Yes, yes. I agree.