COVID-19: DIARY of an Author-Intuitive

6.5 near Yellowstone; 4.5
rocked the cabin last Monday

By Cal Orey

LOCKDOWN: COVID-19 (MY DIARY)

Hey, I've been away for a while. The world is a ball of madness. The song by R.E.M. "It's the end of the world as we know it"--"But I feel fine" plays in my mind. "It starts with an earthquake"... Sadly, the song mirrors real life since our world has changed.

As a highly sensitive person I can tell you the drama has unbalanced my mind. Soaking up the toxic energy of our planet is taking a toll on my inner peace. So much insanity.  Too much. Overwhelmed. And nowhere to escape except at night when I sleep...
Eight to 10 Americans isolated at home. The next two weeks will be challenging, warn the medical experts, with sobering numbers of deaths spiking. Unemployment soars, food hoarding continues, price gouging online, and farmers talks about potential food shortages, perhaps, in the future--like we see in other countries. People are fighting and looting. 

So much uncertainty of the post-pandemic makes me think being in the eye of the contagion seems safer because we know it.

Last night I was awakened by a phone call at 1:30 A.M. I forgot to sign out of the psychic network. The caller's concerns bored me. I didn't care. She was demanding, selfish, and no wonder her AWOL mate said he was done. I was there but not there. Earlier in the evening a 6.5 rocked Idaho; about 300 miles from Yellowstone, felt in six states. When a caller grilled me about her love life I didn't hear her words about romance.  She didn't mind that the Earth moved. It makes me think these people are out of touch or maybe trying to grab on to someone--anyone to hold.


Alone More, Feeling Numb

Ironically, I am feeling so disconnected. Sure, my loyal companion animals are my anchor to life as it was pre-pandemic. But now, I'm going through the motions like walking through an airport and not knowing anyone. I want to escape and go back to our world the way it was in 2019.  No pool to swim. No travel. No real friends. Sick of the cyber world--and the millennials I can see outside the front window these days because they are home. Not a care in the world. They laugh. They're good, they said. But their parents are old and frail. Are they blind to the fact they could be infected?
While I have book edits and article assignments, I sense the distance from my friendly editors 3000 miles away. They, too are being pulled out of their comfort zone into a battle of their own. Actually, the phone conversation with a friendly accountant and a doctor who came through with an interview for the story I'm working on, were the best connections I've made all week. 

On Number Overload

So many projections of deaths, confirmed cases, and watching lifeless bodies being put into cold trucks. It's like a "Soylent Green" sequel that I've watched and thought, "Can this really happen?" And in "Contagion" Matt Damon's character, the dutiful dad grabbed his daughter's bf off of her outdoors--during social distancing. I try and do the same, warning my brother of infecting us without thinking. He is restless and was talking of going to a hot tub party... I cannot control his actions. I am on my own.


I have mega cabin fever. It's like when I'm working months on a book but those days I have a trip planned--my reward. This time, there is no trip. Just vouchers that sit in a Delta lockbox for another year. Sure, Tahoe is a beautiful place to be in lockdown but you can be anywhere and still be in a funk.
Watching the healthcare workers go through hellish working conditions is painful to watch. My biggest fear would be to get sick, taken away by a faceless human clad in a hazmat suit. I'd be forced inside a tent containment center left to die with  sick strangers,  in limbo till the last breath. No furry friends to hug.

So Hello Structure

Today, I am going to take a break. Treadmill, spring clean so those spring allergies don't confuse me into thinking, "Do I have the illness?" I am looking forward to spring weather despite we have a late winter storm rolling in this weekend. Another fire or two...But gardening, sunshine, and wishing and envisioning some sort of normalcy in late June. 
Dog teeth cleaning, my teeth cleaning, hair highlights (good now because I knew this isolation was on its way), and maybe swimming. Or not. I know these things will be done...and giving the Aussie a bath in a few weeks when it warms up will be a sign that fresh life will blossom as the trees will sprout and flowers greet locals. 

It will be okay, right? It has to be.