Pandemic’s weight an invisible burden

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/03/2021 (1805 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Last week, I had a spare chunk of time before I had to pick up my daughter from daycare, and we were in need of fresh produce, milk and a few other things, so I headed to the grocery store.

I pushed my cart through the aisles of Superstore, passing others who were gathering their own groceries. Most were being mindful not to touch things they weren’t going to take, following arrows and maintaining physical distance from everyone else, while some paid no mind to the directional markings on the floor. It has become so normal, abiding by the COVID-19 rules, trying not to take up too much space and dodging close encounters or contact with masked strangers.

I nestled myself into an aisle of the produce department beside a table full of bananas and pulled out my phone to read my grocery list, before scanning the table for the perfect bunch. It was the most ordinary moment when suddenly I looked at the people around me and experienced this sinking feeling, a profound sense of sadness that came out of nowhere. I felt it like a sucker punch to my gut. One second I was scanning for a bunch of bananas and the next second this rush of melancholy washed over me so thoroughly, that I felt as though I might burst into tears.

Admittedly, my emotions are and always have been big, but this was something else. It was heavy and all-encompassing and in that moment, surrounded by people in the produce section, I had never felt so alone. It came from nowhere, and it arose from nothing in particular, but this sudden wave of sadness swallowed me whole.

This has happened to me a few times since last March. I am positive it stems from pandemic fatigue.

For the most part, I’ve been OK, and I am so lucky for that. I haven’t been touched by this invisible virus the way others have. I have not had to be a front-line hero, working in a hospital, or at a daycare or school, or in a grocery store. Nor have I gotten sick, or lost a loved one and been left to grieve in solitude. There are so many things to be grateful for — and I am grateful — but sometimes, for no particular reason, the pandemic gets really heavy, and I get sad.

In general, Canadians are feeling the toll of this pandemic on their mental health, feeling more anxious, more stressed, and increasingly lonely because of physical or social distancing. According to a February Ipsos poll, the number of people experiencing stress and anxiety in Manitoba and Saskatchewan has risen from 41 per cent in November to 65 per cent in February.

Living through a pandemic is tough and many of us are having a hard time.

I miss seeing faces. I miss not having to worry if someone next to me is too close. I miss touching people. I used to duck into the grocery store, unkempt and praying I wouldn’t see anyone I knew, but I miss running into a friend I haven’t seen in a while and not thinking twice of giving a loose hug or a handshake, or even just having a close conversation. All of these old social norms aren’t normal anymore and I miss them.

My sadness comes in surges, often in moments where my mind and my life are calm and I’m not thinking of a million other things. Sometimes the feeling lasts for only a little while, and other times it lasts for a few days or even weeks. I don’t have a solution to share, or a piece of positivity to cap off this column. Sometimes we get sad and that’s OK. It’s part of life, especially lately, and it’s OK to feel your feelings.

Please take care and be kind to yourself. If you are struggling, talk to family and friends, and use the resources in your community, such as those found here.

We are all in this together.

shelley.cook@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @ShelleyACook