Middle of Pandemic

I just say middle, but who knows when this COVID-19 pandemic will end really? Is it ever ending? I realize that I have not written in this blog for years. I have thought of creating a new site to put future stuff into, but I just have a thing for nostalgia. And I have had this blog since… I don’t exactly know.

My memories have started to become like that of an aging person, which is true. I have aged since I started here. Maybe it was partly stress-induced. So far, I am comfortable with no longer remembering who was such and such, where I met them, why I know them at all. It’s quite early to think it’s a sign of future dementia or whatever, but I have thought of that.

So what happened to me? No one is asking but I will say anyway. For one, in 2018, my dad figured in a road accident and he passed away. The grief is still something I have always thought of writing about, but maybe when I’m older and still think that it matters, I’ll get to writing fully about it.

A year or so after that, I found myself being less of a hundred percent into anything. I resigned from my job, got into a certain mobile game, discovered I’m already pre-hypertensive, and then went back to the same job I resigned from. I have always considered myself inclined to self-destruction, but for some luck or supreme entity out there, I found myself back into the threads of life.

So I’m here again. And another chaos bigger than my issues are wrecking havoc all over the world. Sometimes, when my hormones are probably out of balance, I still wish this supreme entity will just take me. Take all these sudden thoughts of no hope at all and take me with it. Then I’d get up from the bed and life will go on.

Self-care is a great idea. You promise to take care of yourself when no one else does. When all hope is gone, you cheer yourself up. You get a glass of water and rehydrate. Eat something. Take a warm bath. Hug yourself. Yesterday, my thought process went into this spiral again of wishing I had the usual doting mother and this other side of me simply took the reins and blurted out, “I’m your mother.” And I laughed.

Here’s a virtual hug to those who may be going through the same. Not feeling like a hundred percent. Not sure when they’re coming back, but still find themselves in the here and now.