March 20

I last posted March 10, and that was literally the last day of (uneasy) peace before the floor dropped out from under us and revealed the dystopia beneath.  The walls are closing in; we are headed into dark times.  I am anxious and depressed, but I find it ironic that I am less anxious and depressed, sitting here in the middle of social isolation and a global pandemic, than I was when we had bedbugs.  The bedbugs were my responsibility, and I was alone with my pain and fear.  The pandemic does not require as much decision making of me, and I am one of millions.

Still, it's a terrible ride.  I am viscerally reminded of being on a bumpy flight, scared and unable to evade the experience, only unlike the flight, I don't know when this will end.