What a year 2020 has been. I have been stuck in my apartment for the past 7 days. The US is now seeing the severity of the worldwide pandemic that is the coronavirus. We all started out thinking it was similar to the common flu. I was worried about it mid February but believed everyone around me saying not to worry because it isn't that bad. Well... as of today March 20, 2020 there are over 250,000 cases around the world, over 10,000 fatalities, and 87,000 recoveries.
Am I panicking? You bet I am. Am I being smart and following order of social distancing? Yes, if anything I am straight up isolating myself and staying indoors. The first couple days in my apartment were fine. I wasn't too worried about this whole thing being hard. I thought it was going to be a piece of cake since I like staying indoors. Our school is closed and we have virtual classes until the end of the quarter in May. After just 5 days of staying indoor it hit me. I've been overthinking and worrying about my family and loved ones health every single day but on Wednesday I just had a realization of just how alone I actually am out here. I'm still in Arizona. The cases aren't too bad here...at least as of now. California's numbers are soaring quickly so I know going home isn't the smartest thing to do right now. But I am worried shitless. I have enough food to get me by a couple weeks, I have my dogs, but I still feel alone. On social media everyone's with their family and friends, my friends out here have roommates, families, and just live with their fiancé. Don't get me wrong, my dogs are such a big help to have. If it wasn't for them I think my mental health would have hit even harder much quicker. But Wednesday night struck me out of no where and I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I'm honestly so sad out here and I took for granted just times I was out of the house and its effect on me even if I was just out for 10 minutes getting groceries. I am alone here with my thoughts. The things I worked so hard on the beginning of the year to forget and move on from are slowly coming back. My insecurities, my doubts, the pain... it's slowly coming back and I hate it. I hate it and what it does to me and I hate remembering what it's DONE to me. I'm trying to distract myself with Youtube, TikTok, steaming channels, Animal Crossing... but at the end of the day I still feel the pain. The apartment is slowly piling up with mess. I catch myself in my thoughts sometimes and cry. I need the physical contact. I need the touch.
I miss my parents so much and I miss John too. I worry so much over their health and I pray so hard for this to be over with already. I am so thankful to be able to Facetime them but I miss them so much and I miss being around them. I can't help but worry. I can't help thinking bout the possibilities of what could happen. I know they're all taking care of themselves but being out in California and being over 300 miles away from me frightens me. I should be with them. I want to be with them. Every time my parents and I FaceTime and we tell each other how much we miss one another and that we'll see each other soon, I'm always holding in my tears. I know we can get through this. I hate not knowing what the future holds. I hate not knowing when this will all be over with already. I hate not being able to see them. I hate not being able to hug them. I hate being so far away and not being able to see them for a while. I'm slowly dying out here. I really don't know how I'm going to last alone until May. I WANT OUT. I WANT TO BE WITH MY LOVED ONES. I WANT TO BE HOME ALREADY.
I need to stop crying.
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