Isolation: The 25-point Plan

Current level of isolation?

A. Gilligan’s Island.
B. In orbit on the ISS.
C. It’s the plot of the Martian and you’re Matt Damon.

Mars would be optimal but for the loneliness. The International Space Station has a lovely view. If you live with a Gilligan who’s always screwing everything up for everybody, you’re going to have to tie up your little buddy and spray him with Lysol three times a day.

Okay, cool. We’re stuck. How do you plan to use this time and stay sane?

For many of us, it’s been about a week or so in isolation. 

I write books for a living. My struggle kicked in before the coronavirus arrived on our shores. For the last three months, I’ve been having a hard time getting into my job. I love writing once I start, but, ooh, it can be hard to start. As Stephen King says, “The scariest part is right before you start.”

I have a book about two-thirds written and several other projects that need attention. After publishing Citizen Second Class on Christmas Day, I fell into a kaleidoscope of distractions, working on marketing plans, developing book plots and proposals, goofing off a little, and entertaining a killer funk. Funks are not fun. I need to focus. Maybe you feel it, too? Are the walls closing in? Let’s figure this shit out.

We’re in isolation and creeping dread has set in. What’s next?

After this experience, I hope we all develop more compassion for prisoners, especially those in solitary. If you live alone, you can be quite safe from the coronavirus. However, isolation takes its own toll.

When you go to prison, you can go one of two ways: work out with heavy weights and get huge or sleep sixteen hours a day. As a chronic insomniac, I’ve found it quite easy to sleep lately. I especially enjoy those delicious afternoon naps. Nothing wrong with napping unless it’s a sign of depression stealing into your life. If it’s a retreat you need, I advocate for it. If you’re sleeping so much that it’s messing with your plans and relationships, you might want to reevaluate. I know I am.

Rob’s plan to shake off the funk:

  1. Stay informed, not overwhelmed. Information is good. Tragedy tourism through the internet is harmful.
  2. Structure. What’s the plan for the day? Set alarms. Do the Thing!
  3. I try not to waste time obsessing about the things I can’t control.
  4. My favorite playlist is called Deadly. It’s my “Get up and go beat ’em up workout music.” Better that than yet another podcast that beats me over the head with the same information over and over.
  5. Move more. I don’t want to go near my doctor’s office for the next year if I can help it. Exercise is my new medical appointment and it has to happen daily. 
  6. Stop with the stress eating. More veggies, water, and less processed crap.
  7. Stay connected with the social circle. Humans are social animals. Yes, even most introverts need some human interaction. Talking to yourself and to pets is okay but a little more feedback than an echo off the bare walls is nice.
  8. Dance. Sing. Swear. 
  9. Acknowledge that striving for excellence doesn’t require perfection. Perfectionism is a form of self-loathing. We don’t have to teach our kids quantity surveying and particle physics just because they’re out of school.
  10. We’re at a huge historical milestone. We will all remember this time. Maintain morale whenever possible. Make jokes. Share fun memes of dogs doing fun dog stuff.
  11. Patience.
  12. Kindness.
  13. Distractions can helpful when they don’t fill the entire day. Sure, watch Netflix but don’t scroll through it aimlessly for hours. 
  14. Work on your hobbies, play some games.
  15. Read those books you’ve been meaning to read. (If you’re reading mine and you like them, please review them. Thanks!)
  16. Got clutter? You know what to do. Sure, it’s not necessarily fun but, like exercise, you’ll feel better and lighter afterward. Bonus: You’ll find that thing you thought you lost!
  17. Reach out electronically. Call somebody you haven’t spoken to in a long time. Tell Dad you’re the one who put a dent in his car that time. It’s not like he can come over and take a swing at you. (Or tell him you love him. That’ll freak him out.)
  18. You’re already washing your hands obsessively. Good! Don’t skip showering the rest of you each day, too.
  19. Wash your clothes. You can’t get a haircut, but keep up appearances. 
  20. Helping others will help you.
  21. Acknowledge that it’s okay to feel bad, to stress, to get mad. I will try to stick to these plans, but I will not beat myself up when I fail to hit a home run for every at-bat. Find the balance.
  22. Watch out for binge drinking, binge eating, binge drugging etc. Get those harmful lures out of your home and get help if you need it.
  23. I didn’t realize how much I depended on the routine of writing in a coffee shop until the coffee shop was no longer an option. My appointment with my laptop is every morning at 10 a.m.
  24. Not all suggestions are for everyone all the time. Do what you can with what you have. Stay as safe as you can. 
  25. Check in with anyone you suspect may be at risk of self-harm or harm by others.

    We are all doing hard time. If you need help, there are still resources available to you. If that’s you, please try to be brave for just one more minute and call a friend or an agency that will offer assistance. Contemplating self-harm? Google “International Suicide Hotline.” Suffering domestic violence? Get help here: https://www.domesticshelters.org/.
    Whatever your mental health issue, make the call. There is an organization filled with good people eager to support you. You are needed. Hold on!

    If you are an essential worker who doesn’t have the option of isolating at home, you get to swear more than the rest of us. Godspeed and feel our love for you because you are a goddamn hero. We all salute and thank you. When we get through this, it will be a big party and you’ll be the guest of honor. Hold on!

    Whoever and wherever you are, hold on.

    (Got a suggestion of your own? Please, add them in the comments.)

 

 

Mayday for a friend

Having to write this post tears me up.

As I prepare Citizen Second Class for publication, one of the themes that emerged was: Life’s not fair. It’s up to us to make it that way. Here’s our chance.

Ryder is the grandchild of one of my most cherished readers, a fan who supported my work from early on. This sweet little girl lent her name to a character in Fierce Lessons. She’s eight years old and she’s been diagnosed with cancer. Needless to say, we are in shock. This sucks. Let’s ease some stress and help Ryder kick cancer’s ass.

Here’s the link to find out more, and how we can help this family.

Please donate to Ryder’s GoFundMe if you can.

Thank you.

~RCC

Life’s not fair. Let’s make it that way! Hope is bigger than all the evil in the world.

Life is not fair, but we are supposed to try to make it that way.

In the course of Joshua’s treatment, this young man’s heart has stopped, his kidneys have failed and his hair has fallen out. These are the days of the cancer patient: Lost work, lost time, lost energy, countless appointments, waiting in fear, pain and panic and even more waiting, under-dressed in cold rooms. There are long nights waiting for the dawn and wondering. Cancer patients have to face too many stare-in-the-eyes, earnest talks from well-meaning people and are sometimes ignored by others who don’t want to look their way. Exhausted, cancer patients put on brave faces through the day and cry secret, lonely, midnight tears. With cancer treatment, bad things happen to you beyond your control and worry gnaws constantly. In short, cancer sucks. You know this.

But there is also hope. Hope is bigger than all the evil in the world. Health professionals dedicated to delivering the very best care surround Joshua, a phalanx of white-coated centurions. When you join this fight with a donation (and no donation is too small), you’re joining an army in the most important fight there is. This is the war that affects all of us. Communities rally around the casualties because (and this is not a metaphor) we are all cancer’s casualties. Who doesn’t know someone who has or has had cancer?

The IndieGoGo campaign has a modest goal. We are indie authors from around the world trying to help Joshua and his family with the bills. Is $10,000 enough? Not nearly. Please help how you can and you’ll get some sweet perks. For your generosity, there are plenty of great books and useful services to choose from, but the best perk of all is the feeling you’ll get when you help.

That’s why I donate time, money and perks.

That’s why I put my hand up an old British queen’s dress: for the warm fuzzies!

Please click the IndieGoGo donate button at Indies Unite for Joshua.