Like everyone else, I am cocooned due to the Cornovirus pandemic. Or is it marooned? The state I’m in feels like I’m watching “Groundhog Day” during the Polar Vortex on 9-11. Emotions have gyrated back and forth these past six weeks, with grief at the core. My grief journey feels a bit familiar, having gone through terminal illness with family members and death of loved ones. And it feels different as I traverse through stages of grief that are unchartered waters during a global pandemic.
As a reference, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross wrote about the stages of grief in her 1969 book "On Death and Dying". I’m revisiting these through the lens of the Illinois “Stay at Home” order. The five stages include: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It’s important to know that grief can affect every aspect of life, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. And, it’s equally important to know you may not go through all stages or in any particular order. Here are notes from my journey so far that may seem familiar to you (or not) in your situation.
Once the COVID-19 crisis began shutting things down I watched awestruck, in disbelief, as my calendar imploded and cleared out for the foreseeable future. Most certainly I was in Denial. Events cancelled. Trips refunded. Dates rescheduled to “sometime in the future.” Since nobody knew how long this would be, I began consuming media: listening to the radio, watching TV, scanning social media and tuning in on governmental daily updates. There was a curiosity to learn more, to understand and to try to make sense of it all. As a futurist, I tried to figure out where help may be needed and how to be of help. My pent up energy and ideas initially spewed out as two blogs: Life Disrupted: 50 Things to Do While Sheltering from COVID-19 and 50 Ways to Work Smart From Home During the COVID-29 Pandemic. Heck, I event did a proper hand washing video. Then Governor Pritzker called for volunteers to help, so I signed up to be a Red Cross volunteer and help at the Northern Illinois Food Bank. Once this initial energy was spent, I found myself at stage 2.
Next up was Anger. I’m not sure what I was angry about, but since being told to stay home is not something anyone planned on, anger is a feeling that bubbles up from time to time. I’m not angry by nature, but I found things to complain about and was angry for all the losses to come: small businesses affected; the vulnerable, sick and dying; friends and family distancing and for feeling helpless and isolated. I guess I felt most angry at losing control.
Somewhere in week two of staying home, the Bargaining began. I guess I did a bit of that just before cancelling spring break plans to Florida. We waited until the last minute in case something new would break to miraculously change the course of the stay home order. I even made hopeful plans a couple weeks ahead for a Starved Rock weekend that also went bust. Still home, still waiting, still powerless…yes the reality of this was firmly settling in to be grim.
That’s when Depression paid a visit. One day my 2-year-old grandson didn’t want to talk to me (“No, Mimi”) on a video call, labeling his feelings as “sad.” His routine was totally disrupted: he can’t play with his friends, go with mom and sister to the coffee shop, stop at the library, participate in gymnastics or swim at the health club. I totally empathized since I do all the grown up versions of his schedule. It had all come to a screeching halt. When the bargaining ran out, so did my steam (temporarily), which sunk into about a 48-hour depression. I binge watched Netflix, ate food I shouldn’t have, slept in (what’s the point of waking up to the same thing every day?) and had an uncharacteristically poor attitude. It was about this time that John Prine, a songwriter/musician died at age 73 of complications from COVID-19. I remember reading the lyrics from one of his songs, “Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow),” that seemed to capture where I was mentally.
“You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
Throw your hands in the air, say “; What does it matter?”;
But it don’t do no good to get angry, So help me I know
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own Chain of sorrow.”
John’s words were timely reminders that I am the songwriter of my personal ballad; his words nudged me back to composing, now with new purpose. Perhaps, it was one of many triggers to move on and stop feeling sorry for myself.
Yes, Stage 5 Acceptance arrived about week 3. It was time to live in a new reality where I cannot control what’s outside my house, but can control how I feel and what I do with my time. And that’s when it started: Second floor redecorating projects; wellness schedule (online yoga, daily meditation, long walks, stationary bicycle, stair climbing, etc.); Zoom meetings, nutritional eating/cooking research and implementation; yard work; writing; volunteering; binge learning; and building out a new idea. Acceptance doesn’t mean I have to like the situation. I just have to navigate and control my life, accepting the new realities. Even though I have accepted the pandemic doesn’t mean the waters of depression don’t wash over me from time to time.
Yesterday the Governor announced extending the Stay at Home order through May - another five weeks (shaking my head). I felt a temporary wave of depression, but quickly reframed the unwelcome news as more time to cocoon. I can choose to look at “this” as a sentence or a sanctuary. “Stay at Home” is an opportunity to sink into a depression or lift self-expectations. I’ve chosen the latter of both of this. Spring is here (well, nearly), it’s porch weather (almost) with garden planting just around the corner. It comes down to mindset and reframing yours. Nurseries were declared open with social distancing, so it’s time to think about getting my flowers, which is a real attitude booster.
Today’s outstanding Red Cross D & I Teams Training by Jayzen Patria likened what we are all experiencing to organizational change. He citied a model by Cynthia Scott and Dennis Jaffe (above) and the four stages: denial, resistance, exploration and commitment. I can see similarities to the Kubler-Ross model of grief as well as differences. Jayzen did a “tire check” with us using the digital engagement tool, Mentimeter, to gauge where we were in these four stages. I weighed in at the “Exploration” phase, which means I’ve stopped resisting and am focusing on the future. Jayzen then asked, “Are you surviving or thriving?” and “Which brain are you using: Stone Age (survival) or Space Age (thrive)?” Both are good questions as I bounce back and forth between the two, depending whether I’m masking up at the grocery store or Zooming with a client or friend.
Whatever you are feeling right now, remember to take care of yourself first, then check-in on the well-being of others. When we all emerge from our cocoons’ we’ll look and act a bit differently. I’m not sure that is all bad. Caterpillars go through a metamorphosis and a cocoon is there to house the chrysalis during the transformation. And, remember, there is no resting going on inside the cocoon because transformation is hard and messy work. I just hope we recognize each other as we emerge later this summer.
See you on the other side of this thing. Stay safe and be well.
