The Coronavirus, Anxiety, Isolation, and Trauma
The Coronavirus has by now, integrated its way into our daily lives, our conversations, and is residing in our second by second thoughts. Whether or not you are exhibiting the physical symptoms that would medically qualify for a diagnosis as sick with the Novel Coronavirus, you are infected.
We have always been infected.
Underlying anxieties, fears – the isolation we fight against in our daily lives is a physical reality for many.
The news leads with reports on new cases, infected areas of the world, and I find myself trying to physically, emotionally, and spiritually locate myself in these stories. The intersection of my physical body, my emotions about my life patterns being disrupted, and faith are complex. I struggle to put words to the flood of layers of uncertainty.
Language influences how we think (Sapir-Whorf). And, there aren’t a lot of words for the Coronavirus that adequately addresses these layers. Annie Rogers calls this kind of effect on language, “the unsayable”.
Our society is searching for — creating a new language — to express the repeated sounds and place holders (signifiers) of what cannot be said (Rogers, The Unsayable). She states, “Here is the unsayable, where words are spoken, yet fall into disconnection with what they point toward” (p. 186).
In my humor about a search for toilet paper, I want to solve one problem, one aspect of a situation that is completely beyond my control. And, perhaps in a search for toilet paper, I will accomplish something. At the very least it is a way of communicating what I do not have language for.
In this process, I must confront both my need to be in control of something (i.e. toilet paper), and the helpless feeling of controlling nothing.
And, I offer kindness to myself and my need to make jokes about toilet paper searching because I am anxious this virus, and the panic could blow up my well-laid plans to graduate, and start working.
I practice breathing, connecting via text, or phone with friends.
There aren’t many places in the world where I can show up and share my fears, anxieties, and traumatic experiences. Thus, the coronavirus is a concrete way for me to express these. I’m not downplaying the seriousness of the virus, but it has opened doors for conversations I wouldn’t be having if life was chugging along, undeterred by this virus.
Therefore, I allow space for these conversations, with a variety of close and not-so-close friends.
I listen. I write. I pray.
The Coronavirus not only is a way to confront my own anxieties and fears, but am forced to think of others.
Who are the disenfranchised? The Marginalized? Workers who cannot work from home? The people who may not have access to money, care, and connection needed?
People who are older among us are most affected by the Coronavirus, and it can be deadly.
What do I do with my body?
My body can be a-symptomatic, carrying a virus, that could be deadly to another’s body. What if my need for individuality carries a virus to someone with less immune-defenses, underlying health issues, or simply not enough socio-economic resources to access the care they need?
Will I stand by as Asian Americans are targets of jokes and fear?
Or, will my lack of sight lead me to forget to check in on friends with less connection — those without healthcare — those who are older — those with trauma — those who already experience high levels of anxiety?
Confronting my own selfishness isn’t fun, or easy. I argue against my need to restrict my access to others or places I feel I have a right to be. And, I argue, we all must consider what is driving our actions, what emotions are behind them? What is our body experiencing?
The feeling of losing control is familiar to so many of us who have walked through trauma ourselves or with others. Survivors of trauma have experienced events out of their control. How can I offer kindness to those who may have panic or be re-living experiences they have no language for?
Yes, the coronavirus has infected me, or more likely exposes the vulnerable places I still struggle. Yes, it brings up feelings of powerlessness, frustration, anger, and sadness.
I ask those who are able to step in, engage, connect with those in friend groups, find ways to fight the isolation, validate others’ anxieties, and share toilet paper with your neighbors.
If you need support, help, validation, or encouragement, reach out.