Whew. I had made it to Friday evening.
Sure, there had been the usual few hateful messages from readers about COVID-19 coverage that have greeted journalists throughout the pandemic.
And it had been a busy week with us short-staffed like every other business due to Omicron.
Sure, I felt tired and achy from my booster shot, but that was expected.
I genuinely love my job and felt grateful for the day’s interviews with a couple of insightful locals.
I was fine.
As a reward for making it through another pandemic week, I headed to Random to see if I could get a “new” shirt or jeans.
On the way, I dropped my mask in the snow.
There are worse things, I thought, upon entering the shop with my wet mask touching my lips as I breathed.
Twenty minutes later, leaving the store with pants two sizes bigger than I would have needed two years ago, I thought: “It is fine. Extra pounds aren’t the worst thing to come out of a pandemic with.”
I checked my phone for updates on how a good friend and a relative were coping with their bouts of COVID-19.
They were isolated at home and would be fine, I told myself.
Once home, I kicked off my snowy boots and glanced at the half-painted walls that we thought would be an excellent pandemic project several months ago.
We will finally finish this weekend, I thought.
My partner greeted me with a hug.
Everything really was OK.
After some small talk about our day he said: “Hey honey, you could have helped me a bit more with the dog today.”
I wish I could say I know what happened in my brain when he said this, but all I know is I snapped.
“I CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS. IT IS TOO HARD!” I screamed.
He looked from the startled and bewildered dog to me.
“Huh?”
I suddenly let go of the tears I had held for two years.
Everything was not fine.
My bet is everything is not fine with you either.
A just-published showed that 36% of surveyed Canadians are struggling with their mental health.
I can easily acknowledge I have several layers of privilege that make my experience of the pandemic much easier than that of many, including that I have worked throughout and have stable housing and no school-aged kids at home.
And yet, I feel burned out at times now.
To rate if you are burned out, says to ask yourself if you feel the following:
• emotionally exhausted?
• physically drained?
• tired all the time?
• irritable?
• anxious?
• angry with the demands of others?
• withdrawing from activities you once enjoyed?
• isolating yourself from other people?
• difficult to concentrate?
• difficult to get a good night’s sleep?
• forgetful?
This has been a tough two years no matter who you are or how big the watercraft is you are navigating this storm with — be it log, canoe, boat or yacht.
We all know what we need to do to make ourselves feel better — time outside, connecting with loved ones, sleep — and I did those that weekend.
But feeling better started with letting go of the “everything is fine” facade.
I vowed to be more honest with myself and my partner — who is navigating the storm in his own way — about how I’m feeling.
And I promised to maybe help out more with the dog.
For now, that is the best I can do.
And I bet you are doing the best you can too, as we navigate what is hopefully the last of this storm.
