Aside from planning a vegetable garden to supplement my supply of M&Ms…
I don’t anticipate leaving my blanket fort (where I write and work on audiobooks) until about two weeks post-Vaccination Day. So looking forward to Vaccination Day!
Wee Beasties will kill me if they catch me outside so here’s how I’m spending my days in isolation:
I’m making a concerted effort to drink more water and work out daily. When in need of comfort, I make a mean focaccia. Not too much or too often with the bread. If I do that, why bother with exercise? There’s plenty of ways to get a heavy sweat on without venturing out into the Badlands. These walls are my world.
I figure a lot of dudes go to prison and come out buff. That’s my plan.
How are you spending your time in isolation?
P.S. If you’re looking for something fun to read, AFTER Life: Inferno, the first book in that zombie apocalypse trilogy is free today (April 3, 2020).
I just left the following message with a friend. Then I thought I should share it here, as well.
Good evening. This is your mental health and morale officer checking in. This is to remind you that your limit on the number of times you can scream at someone today is five. As the situation evolves, that number may be reevaluated and adjusted upward. For today, your number is five.*
Cry all you want as necessary so the steam pressure doesn’t blow a gasket.
The coffee shop (AKA the coffice) is no longer an option, of course. Freedom awaits, but relief shall not come until at least two full weeks after that longed-for goal: Vaccination Day!
I’m writing fiction and working on audiobooks in the blanket bunker. If you can manage it, I highly recommend a similar retreat. Failing that, pull blankets over your head and breathe through a hose. Crawl under the bed to cry. Hide under a friendly dog and whisper your deepest sins into his big floppy ears.
Then? Wait.
Then wait some more.
Patience.
Don’t binge on bad news all the time. Stay sane. Perform a kindness. Poke your head out a window and curse the distant, uncaring stars. Have a cookie. Have another cookie. Exercise by pounding a pillow and cursing. Works for me.
Today’s message is:
You will feel fear. You will feel grief. As the pandemic rages on, anger may grip you. I hope we live to feel gratitude for being spared.
She Who Must Be Obeyed (AKA my wife) mentioned that the new move in appropriate terminology is to encourage physical distancing, not social distancing.
With COVID-19 rampaging across Earth, isolating is necessary. However, you need not feel alone. All in this together even if we’re apart, right? Some experts suggest reaching out to three people a day (electronically). Give a call to someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. Check in, especially with the elderly, vulnerable neighbors or family members who are stuck, alone or at risk. Alone doesn’t have to be lonely. Making and maintaining social connections has even been shown to be good for our health. Stress and strife is something we need to tamp down as much as we can.
Don’t know what to say to people going through hard times? Often, all you need do is listen so they feel heard and seen. Other times, you may be able to help people at risk connect to services that can assist them.
Speaking of Reaching Out
Did you know that avid readers of my work have a private Facebook group where I hold forth on the doings of the day? It’s often jokes and occasionally it’s serious. I add excerpts from my work in progress, too.
Example? Here’s a snippet from the This Plague of Days prequel I’m working on now:
Armed only with the cane, Moira rushed toward the screams. She was still weak, but now that she’d survived the Sutr flu, she was determined to fight whatever came next. She did not spare a moment to tell Kevin Laughlin that she would return to his side. The dying have no time for lies.
For another taste from the group, here’s today’s post (a review of sorts):
Hey, Monday, you great looming beast full of threats, coffin nails, and bat wings. And hello, friends.
When we ran out of our addictive Tiger King supply, we watched Wild Wild Country on Netflix. Again, I am amazed at the sheer amount of footage narcissists require. If you know someone who records everything, there’s a good chance they killed somebody or they’re about to do something super shady that should land them in a prison cell.
Wild Wild Country has been out for a while. I’d given it a miss, but it is so watchable after you slog through the first episode. It’s about a cult that started out with high hopes. Then god complexes, bigotry, and government corruption get in the way. A utopian vision in rural Oregon slides from peace and love to AK-47s. It’s disappointing and teaches us a lesson we should have learned a long time ago: Don’t trust the feds.
There is so much fascinating nuance in these tales of downward spirals. I don’t watch a lot of true crime. I imagine that if you binge too much of it, it’s difficult to see the good in humanity. I know I often sound like a cynic, but they say every cynic is a disappointed idealist.
If you dig what I do, this is your invitation to join our happy little group of readers.
Last night I dreamt that I met an old enemy at a restaurant. He was with his family. I sat beside them but he refused to acknowledge me. I took him aside and said, “I forgive you.”
Wow, that sure pissed him off. “What? What did you say to me?”
I replied, “Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?”
His rage was very satisfying.
I woke up thinking about forgiveness.
Have I ever forgotten a single offense? No. That’s the burden of possessing an eidetic memory for every negative event. I don’t know how to rewire my brain to make my opponents feel more comfortable. I don’t want to forget so I guess forgiveness is out, too. I let myself off the hook of that common social obligation. (I call it learning.)
We often call for victims to forgive their enemies. Says so in the Bible, too. However, that frequently serves the oppressor more than the oppressed. Offenders try to take a shortcut to salvation. Offering neither apologies nor recompense, they expect absolution. They place the burden of “moving on” where it does not belong. A consequence-free existence increases the chances they will offend again.
I will never demand that anyone forgive transgressions in the name of becoming more healthy. That’s up to each individual to decide for themselves.
Last night I spotted a terrifying tweet from an ER doctor in New York. His hospital was slammed with patients. They intubated five patients on his shift. Four lived. Some nurses retreated to closets to weep. This is life and death on the front lines and this is only the beginning. There are not enough masks to protect health care workers. Exhausted and feeling hopeless, the doctor’s take on the chaos and the lack of viable treatment options: “You’re all on your own.”
If you can stay home, please do so. Isolating saves lives.
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:
Stay informed, not overwhelmed. Information is good. Tragedy tourism through the internet is harmful.
Structure. What’s the plan for the day? Set alarms. Do the Thing!
I try not to waste time obsessing about the things I can’t control.
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.
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.
Stop with the stress eating. More veggies, water, and less processed crap.
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.
Dance. Sing. Swear.
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.
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.
Patience.
Kindness.
Distractions can helpful when they don’t fill the entire day. Sure, watch Netflix but don’t scroll through it aimlessly for hours.
Work on your hobbies, play some games.
Read those books you’ve been meaning to read. (If you’re reading mine and you like them, please review them. Thanks!)
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!
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.)
You’re already washing your hands obsessively. Good! Don’t skip showering the rest of you each day, too.
Wash your clothes. You can’t get a haircut, but keep up appearances.
Helping others will help you.
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.
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.
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.
Not all suggestions are for everyone all the time. Do what you can with what you have. Stay as safe as you can.
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.)
