Pandemic Parents And Shattered Spirits

Well my friends, this latest journey has been a long one. I definitely feel like I bought a one way ticket to a shady as all hell destination. Not only am I unhappy with the location but I’m finding it hard to trust the locals. 

We are all so sick of the pandemic and absorbing any more information about it. I don’t plan to get into details about what I think is right or wrong, this isn’t an opinion piece. As much as I feel like a good vent would give my mental strain a small jolt of “take that”.

This is me honestly asking, “are you struggling as much as I am right now?” What I’m talking about is the intense weight of grief that I’m feeling for my children. It’s a gut wrenching pain that comes from not really having great answers for them about what’s going on and knowing that some kids, so many of them, just aren’t coming out the other side of this alright. 

My son is four. He goes to daycare and for the most part, aside from a quick temperature check in the morning, it’s business as usual for this playground conqueror. I’m thankful that he’s able to play freely with friends in a mostly normal environment. He understands that the virus will be gone soon and that then, his friends can come over.

My daughter is almost fourteen. I know you all have your own stories and have heard from loved ones about the tragedies they are all facing with their children. In the past year, I’ve witnessed teen death, hospitalization, medications, eating disorders and epic levels of depression. 

Before this pandemic began, it was estimated that up to 20% of teens suffered from serious depression. I don’t have the latest stats but I’m sure in comparison, it’s astronomical. As much as we are all doing our best to put one foot in front of the other today, I haven’t heard much of what the game plan is for our kids when we get through this chapter. It feels like cope with now, deal with the fall out later. That worries me.

I’m so grateful for our teachers, coaches and medical professionals. Our boots on the ground, the ones in the trenches with our kids. I only see the struggles of my own child, I can’t imagine what it feels like to bear witness to thirty different faces daily, each one telling it’s own story of suffering. All while wanting nothing more than to help each and every one of them, knowing resources are limited and try as you will, you won’t save them all.

We’ve been blessed to have kept our jobs and income this past year. That alone makes me feel shame to raise my hand and say that I’m struggling.  Thinking of the colossal loss humanity has endured makes me angry. I feel like I’ve had an open wound for a year now and it’s just been bleeding out.

I guess that’s what grief is, the ongoing emotional suffering from loss. The immense pain in the world feels like a giant blast from a bomb. For those of us who’ve survived, all we’ve been left with is the sight of destruction, the ringing in our ears and wondering how we’ll pick up the pieces and rebuild.

While we wait for the structures of our future to take shape, I definitely feel like the weight of negativity has become suffocating. I’m tired of the burden, the loneliness and the blaming. Never in my life have I so desperately wanted to help others but at the same time, feel like I have nothing left of myself to give.

A friend of mine told me about this amazing role they have at her job, someone is designated to make wellness calls. This person’s job is to pay attention to their people, recognize those who may be in need and reach out to see how they’re really doing. I was blown away. What an amazing concept, I bet we could all use one.

I know that when I feel down, my go to is to help someone else feel better. Raising the human spirit is contagious, we all have the power to elevate someone. Perhaps if we really want to give our children the best odds at recovery, we should start with taking care of their parents. 

Today is Wellness Wednesday. In the future, when you reach hump day and celebrate that you’ve almost made it through you’re week, remember that someone you know may not feel like they’ll make it through theirs and they’ll never show it. We’ve all got this, right?

The bottom line is that there just isn’t enough mental health support available for the overwhelming demand that exists. Although there is light at the end of this tunnel, new challenges await us. In the midst of the chaos in your life, find it in yourself to be a well-being warrior, even if the person you are helping is you.

We all know it takes a village to raise a child and our village needs all the well-being warriors we can get.