March 27, 2020
A friend posted a Self Magazine article with the above question as the headline, and asked, “Where’s my tribe?”
Here is my reply:
👋🏼 Here I am❗ I spent 2 weeks with a cold. Then another week coming out of a lingering brain fog! Then, last week, The Aborted Poetry Reading, when even the podcast website wouldn’t work right! Then, all of a sudden, words started flowing through my fingers onto my tablet screen.
This week, my main community organization pulled me out of my Myrtle-The-Turtle shell and into 3 Zoom meetings in 2 days! I had to throw on clothes over my pjs and comb my hair just to be semi-presentable. It helped that some of the others in the meeting looked almost as disheveled as I felt.
Now I’m trying to force my brain to compose an email requesting a vote to donate money to partner organizations that are on the ground, actually helping folks in the community during this coronavirus pandemic. My brain is protesting this act of normal functioning. I can write missives about being in semi-quarantine, but I can’t write a simple business email.
I want to crawl back into my Myrtle-The-Turtle shell and sleep. Without dreaming.
I have strange dreams about dead family members trying to send me messages of protection or asking me to reckon with past transgressions. These dreams happen after I fall asleep at 2 or 3AM and recur, with variations, during my daily naps.
I am eating better–enjoying my home-cooked meals for one. I talk to friends and family daily, just to check in. I laugh at tv comedies and cry over dramas.
But, yes, I am having trouble barely functioning.
Postscript: I woke up fully energized at 9 AM this morning and immediately wrote and sent the email requesting a vote. This may be a new normal for me: Get it done first thing, because the energy starts to slip away by mid-afternoon and disappears altogether by 6 PM.
Originally posted to Letters in Quarantine