This may be as vulnerable as I have ever allowed myself to be in a blog.
I am a mess. I am 39. I am in good health. The only underlying condition I have is that my lungs have been radiated in the past. Which means, I am in pretty good shape to fight this thing. And still, I have been on the verge of tears multiple times in the past 24 hours because I am not sure I am doing enough to protect my family, my staff, my students, or myself from this.
How do others with more significant worries hold up through this? Every fever in our country right now is terrifying.
Those that know me well know that I suffer from (at times) crippling health anxiety. My fear is something happening to me and not being there for my family. It literally makes me cry to type that. Both out of the reality of even saying that, but in part the weakness I feel by saying it as well. When I think about it, I am a mess.
My medicine is usually pretty simple. Work. And when work isn’t there, I lose myself in sports and exercise. As we stand, limited work and even less of the distractions I tend to navigate towards. This is ROUGH.
And to be clear, this is not an ALWAYS thing for me. It is not even a most of the time thing. It has peaks and valleys and you fight through the valleys the best you can. My wife is a rock and understands this is part of the package she married. A few friends understand as well. For them I am eternally thankful. But what is happening now – this is an all-timer for me.
This thing we are facing has had me messed up for weeks. I did not find the courage the lead aggressively until last week and that gnaws at me even though I know my ability to have impacted any major decision was extremely limited. The reason I am writing this is for me. Mostly.
But, as I have found with most things in life that if I am feeling something and going through something, most likely many others are as well. So, not only is this a form of medicine but also a nod to the others that think about the worst without wanting to. For those that wake up thinking ‘what if’ and if their kids really know how much they love them – this is for you. You are not alone in your paranoia. And it sucks. And it could be crippling. And I do not know how to make it better. But you are not alone.
And to those in Camp R-E-L-A-X. I have two things to say. First, I hope you are right. Second, I really wish I could.
I am not telling anyone how to feel. I just want people to know that there are people walking around, interacting with you today, that are scared shitless and fighting their ass off to hold it together. For those people, I see you. And I do believe we will be stronger on the other side. Until then, be well.