On the phone with a friend
recently, she said, "You know with COVID restrictions I've spent a lot more time with my family." She paused. "I realize I don't like them very much." I laughed—it was surely a joke. But many families have been under a lot of strain with kids home from school, parents working from home, and many having lost their jobs entirely. We seem to either be suffering from isolation or from too much togetherness.
For one couple I know, total isolation is in its fifth month. They only leave the house to go to the grocery store—only at night when there is virtually no one there. No, these aren't 80-year-olds, they are in their 30s, but I think they are enjoying it. How can that be, you ask? As I said there are only two of them.
But everyone isn't so blissfully happy. There is a lot of talk about the effects of isolation, but what about the opposite? Is there even a word for it? What is the opposite of isolation? I'm talking about families who are literally penned up together like cattle in a chute, with nowhere else to go. I know a mother of three including an energetic, attention-deficit 5-year-old. She's so stressed she's losing her hair. We might not like to hear about it, but there are those who are going quietly crazy in the company of their own children.
It is known that baboons, lions and even, yes, porpoises kill some of their own offspring. Thankfully most homo sapiens do not—we love our families, but even if you keep a few chickens cooped in a small space, one or more of them will come out with fewer feathers—and some won't come out at all. We are social animals. We need conversation, touch, and laughter—just not with the same four people of differing ages and energy levels all day every day, week after endless week.
We're like Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) in the epic prison film, The Shawshank Redemption. Escape was the only thing that kept him going. Sound familiar? For many of us, escape is the only thing that is keeping us going. I know I personally want to get rid of the warden who has closed down seating at Starbucks across Central Indiana. Oh, ya, and the warden who makes us line up in freezing weather outside to get into Trader Joe's—so we don't get sick???? Anyway, I digress.
The fact is that shots are being given, and like the tunnel Andy dug to get out of Shawshank State Prison, we too will soon see the light, and can dance around in the rain like he did, feeling free, although I believe I'll wear a raincoat. In the meantime, just dig down and grab hold of your self-control and know that one day we too will escape this madness, and maybe then, like Morgan Freeman, we can meet Tim in Mexico�.no masks.
Here's to heard immunity,
Nancy
