By Cal Orey
I feel so alone. Disconnected to the world. I noted a friendly UK-based savvy astrologer who said the planet(s) would spin out of control March 17-23. How can it get any worse. I remember sharing with you yesterday that I didn't want to wake up. I sensed tuning into real life would be a bit nightmarish. Like that. And it is insane...
Whew. Where do I begin. Stocks plummeted 2000 plus. I knew it because I peeked at the Asian market at 3:00 A.M. Countries are counting more cases of infected people. Loved ones are sharing how it feels to reunite after being quarantined. Another ship is being scrutinized and more containment chat....Social media.
It's political. I was bullied. People are debating about how it's still just a cold while Italy--an entire country--is shutdown. Politicians are continuing to insist they are immune. After speaking of potential containment living in this tourism hub--mean people said I was crazy. Today, a suburb is under quarantine; flanked by the National Guard.
Um, it's called high anxiety. I'm hardly alone. Huh? Remember the happy-go-lucky Italians seen on TV? They were laughing, insisting life is fine. Sort of like hurricane parties. Italy is now a country of containment. What is going on? Yeah, the coronavirus is not contained. At all. We don't know who is a carrier and who isn't. I feel like I've been transported into the film "Contagion." I want to go home.
Funny thing, I am here by myself in isolation as an author. Since I've been a writer forever, finishing up an assigned article was easy. After all, I have written during blackouts, whiteouts, when my dad died and sister, too. It's a gift. Automatic writing. It's like going through the motions. But I feel the same way I did when I lost my family members--and beloved dog. That terrible lump in the throat and like someone punches you in the stomach. During Katrina I got this sickness. I'm sure other people around the globe have it, too.
But everyone is acting out differently. They're fighting. They're freaking. They're in denial or panic buying--toilet paper to hand sanitizers. I want to go swimming and soak in the hot tub like I do off season. But I don't dare go. It would be like moving around in a petri dish inside a research lab. I want to book that trip to Canada to see the Northern Lights I missed in Alaska and escape to where it is calm. I will wait...December is good but is that the time when the second wave of coronavirus will hit us like a tsunami?
As an introvert, this should be easy. But it's not. Actually, I want to cry but can't. The only time tears fill my eyes is when I lose someone or something dear to me. And now, I feel the wetness trickle down my cheek because I get it. Our world as we knew it is going through challenging chaos. And we are all trying to make sense of it. But nobody knows the answer.
I recall when hitchhiking solo with my dog across America that I was raped; my knapsack and sleeping bag were stolen. I was left on a dark road at night. All alone. Again but different this time. Sort of. But when I realized I was alive with my canine companion--I was grateful. We survived. Dusk is here. And there is a Full Moon tonight. Tomorrow is another day. I wish it would rain.