So, we've all been coping as best we can. My best varies from hour to hour, as I imagine yours does too. And if you have hung around Prozac Monologues for long, you know that humor is one of my go-to tools. It takes a different shape, depending on the topic and the need. This is my Covid-19 version, the gentler one.
Of course, some things have not changed for me. You might say, I am in my zone.
Yes, this is what I do. Facebook tells me that yesterday was my tenth anniversary of official retirement, brought about by my disability or as I put it, when my brain blew up.
But it was not the end of the story. And these days I seem to be busier than ever.
That's not all good news. My latest brilliant insight that I am eager to share with my therapist during our tele-appointment this afternoon: I have reverted to the behaviors I learned as the oldest child in your basic dysfunctional family:
Yup, that's me. While the grown-ups are busy inventing their own version of (non)reality or have left the building altogether, I'm the one who picks up the load for all the rest of the kids left behind.
Or not. Refer back to the tenth anniversary of my disability retirement.
But that also is not the end of the story. See how this works? Recognize a behavior, evaluate how it's working for you, decide what you want to do next.
So, I'm working on that. I pulled back from the worship team's Zoom meetings as part of my new-found wisdom. (How many times do I have to keep finding the same wisdom?)
But just to let you know, we're on a learning curve and getting better at this online church thing.
And attendance is up. So it seems to help folks. I think because we got real, real fast. We have needed to do that. You might try it yourself. Here is a link to Episcopal churches doing online stuff. But you can no doubt find your own particular faith flavor. Or museum, or opera, or national park tour, or funny memes. Lift your head. It's going to take a while, but we'll get through it and emerge - different.
Meanwhile, in my native tongue - blessings.
Or as the Red Green Show put it:
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