The past few days, I had been unconsciously clenching my jaw so much that I could no longer open my mouth fully. I had to carefully maneuver food inside, and still prefer apple sauce over granola due to the amount of effort it takes to get down. My body hurts from stress.
I am not out of shape, but my legs feel a bit shaky when I go for walks, not used to stepping at their same pace and frequency this year. I have three pimples in my yogi third eye. What does that mean? Am I emotionally clogged?
It feels that way, sometimes. Since March, I often feel like I am on a plane waiting to crash. At the moment, we are at a holiday house with a family in our corona bubble, and this is finally the time to relax. But I still feel sometimes like I have forgotten how.
When will I not be like this?
It has gotten a little better now on day three. I am starting to take deeper breaths; we’re doing yoga and takings walks, playing board games and reading books. But still, when someone tries to pass me in the kitchen, or hand me something, it’s like their hands are on fire. I’m afraid to be too close.
So much of my time up until this moment has been scheduled in zoom, smiling at people I either enjoy talking to, or feel uncomfortable in front of – in school, for work, at home “connecting.” But what if these tools aren’t enough for the human connection I’ve missed since March?
I hope I will remember how to be there for people when this is all over, when I can manage more than just a text, and give a hug instead. I hope this pandemic hasn’t broken my spirit like it has often broken my body – a injured hip, a twisted knee, now a sore poorly functioning jaw. I hope these are just growing pains, that we are all in a metamorphosis now, just waiting for something better, something new. No longer caterpillars inching along, looking down, trying to get where we need to be, but something else. Something able to fly.