Here’s what a covid-19 meltdown feels like:  Hours after you’ve done something a bit risky, you start feeling apprehensive, and the worry begins to build .  Were you too close to someone at the grocery store?  Did that guy without a mask at the pharmacy breathe virus on you?     What about that small family dinner? You don’t go inside restaurants except for pickup, but did one of the workers have covid-19?  Now, you’re feeling lightheaded. Before you know it, your thoughts are spiraling out of control.   Are you having a covid-19 meltdown?

A covid-19 meltdown may last anywhere from a few hours to a few days.   During this time, you’re constantly checking the list of symptoms.  Can you still smell?  You go around sniffing coffee and lavender and a bar of soap.  Yes, you can still smell.  But now, your nose is dripping, and your eye looks bloodshot.   Is it your spring/fall allergies acting up?  Or,  the virus? .  You have an upset stomach.  Was it that Mexican food you ate last night, or covid-19.   You feel tired.  Was it that long hike you took yesterday, or something more serious?

My first covid-19 meltdown happened in late March.  This was when our city had less that one tenth of one percent covid-19 cases. The CDC was telling people not to wear masks.  It wouldn’t protect  you at all.  Apparently, they were really were just afraid they were going to run out of masks for essential workers.  When it turned out that people really should wear masks, we’d been running around for weeks without them.

Around that time,  we hosted a small family gathering ,  including someone from another town.  That was when I first  began to feel anxious about contracting covid-19.  During the next four days, I symptom checked on and off every few hours.  At the end of that time period , I relaxed, and put aside my worries.

Now, our city has become a hot spot, with 11% positivity rates.  The fear is spreading. Over the past few months, I’ve had a couple more  meltdowns.   Since I suffer from both spring and fall allergies, any dizziness, fatigue, or dripping nose is alarming.   My worries escalate.  My husband is diabetic and close to 90. What would he do if I got sick?  Where would I go to isolate?  Mentally, I began to make plans.

Coping mechanisms that work best for me:

  1) A walk along the river or through the woods.

  2) Meditation and mindful breathing.

Here’s the thing– in the coming year, it’s probably not going to get any better.  No matter who is elected president, the virus will continue to spread.  I’ve resigned myself to the ever present danger.   We’ll either get the virus, or we won’t.  And until the plague has ended, I’ll probably have a few more covid-19 meltdowns.