I’m starting to think that the perceived ending of the pandemic might actually be effecting my overall mental health more even more than the apocalyptic uncertainty at the beginning of it all. My motivation to do anything even as strenuous as starting a new series on a streaming service has completely fallen off. I’m sure there will be ton of academic work done on the impact of Covid-19 on our collective sanity but it’s hitting me harder than at any point that I remember so far.
The feeling of a continual and torturous walk on a malfunctioning hotel treadmill is the only approximation I can come up with. Maybe that burn is striking in conjunction with our national post-election malaise where something that should have been resolved in a few days keeps dragging on and on until we’re completely burned off all of the outrage built up over the past year. Maybe we’re just tired of better being slightly over the horizon and tantalizingly out of reach. Oh yeah, and then there was the whole series of police murdering people of color to add to the misery as well in addition to the number of people who can’t feed their families because a catastrophic number of businesses have either gone under or struggle to stay open in a time period where a lot of foot traffic is a truly terrible idea. I guess the things I’ve written about above are things I need to think a lot more frequently and seriously about since comparatively I’m only suffering existentially and the Black Lives Matter sign on our lawn doesn’t actually do much of anything.