Healthy Mind

Can we talk about the effect this entire situation around COVID-19 has on mental health?

There’s plenty of experts and scientists who have discussed the toll that staying inside and reducing social contact has. Skype calls and texts will never replace human touch and getting together for a chat.

As written in an article by The New Yorker: “The intersection of multiple challenges during the COVID-19 crisis—to health, employment, home, and access to resources—has produced an extreme confluence of circumstances that significantly increases the risk of depression and the kind of post-traumatic stress disorder, or P.T.S.D., associated with war zones or physical violence.” The Guardian writes that “the aftershock of the pandemic is likely to last a long time and leave yet more casualties in its wake.” Mental health related to the coronavirus is such a huge topic, even the World Health Organization (WHO) published an article on the subject.

All serious stuff obviously.

In my case, the lasting impact on my personal mental health wasn’t even the biggest problem at first. I don’t think I even considered how much I’d be affected a few months down the line. I was focused on the near future – specifically the back and forth surrounding my internship.

When it came to my internship, the thing I struggled with most was all the anticipation, the build-up, and then the confusion. The anxiety and worrying. The last two weeks leading up to my planned internship were an emotional rollercoaster.

Something I’d been looking forward to and working towards for months was slowly falling apart.

Those brief flickers of hope were what really turned it into a rollercoaster. There was always something happening, and there were still moments that gave me hope that it would all work out somehow: the 14-day-rule from the U.S., for example – we made the original cutoff. Next to this, there was also the fact that life hadn’t yet come to a halt everywhere (which it probably should have, but I’d like to refer to my previous post about ignorance).

Finally fully accepting that my New York experience would not happen felt like crushing my own hopes. And – at least temporarily – give up on something I hadn’t shut up about for months.

I was bitter. Still am, a little bit. But no matter how frustrated or sad I was, what else could I have done?

I was angry at something that no one really has full control over.

So that was the short-term situation. Once that passed, I was calmer for a little while. Resigned is probably a better word. April 1 came and went and I had to accept that I would not be sitting on a subway on my way to work.

The long-term that followed seemed perfectly fine. I was lucky enough to have enough people to do social distancing with. That sounds contradictory, I’m aware. But we ended up staying with my boyfriend’s comparatively big family (this is coming from someone who only has one brother who moved out five years before her – leaving the house to be filled with only three people for years before I eventually moved out too).

Anyway, there were always enough fun people to play games and watch movies with.

For a few weeks, I could almost enjoy the extra free time I’d been given. I had all the time in the world to play games, read, and bake an unhealthy amount of cookies and muffins.

Life wasn’t so bad when watching a movie with a freshly baked blueberry muffin in hand.

But my anxiety eventually spiked. With very little distractions and meaningful ways to pass time, it’s hard not to get caught up in a negative thought spiral. I noticed it really clouded my perception of things. Learning online for a few hours a week was no substitute for the busy life I was supposed to lead in New York. I struggled to notice all the positives around me – of which there were plenty. Thankfully, I had people around who kept reminding me.

This isn’t meant to sound ungrateful. I’m more than aware that others have it worse and that I got really lucky.

But anxiety doesn’t really care if you have a realistic reason to freak out.

One way I’ve been trying to handle it and feel more normal is by leaving the house for more than just a walk now that places are opening again. But even that doesn’t really feel like returning to normalcy.

Because going out comes with a few questions. Is it responsible to go – especially if you’re going for fun and not because you need something? Is improving my mental health worth putting others’ physical health at risk? On the flipside, is it worth sacrificing mental health (mine and others) even now that public life is slowing picking up again?

Navigating this new world is quite tricky. And it will take me (and others too) some time to figure out how to balance mental health with the responsibilities around COVID.