How to handle social distancing and social isolation? That is a very hot topic these days. How to combat the loneliness that may result? That, too, is high on our worry lists. So how do you manage elements of reduced social interaction that is now so prevalent? And worse — how will you fare with a potential absence of physical touch?
Living Different Pandemic Realities
Are you feeling frazzled — stuck inside with a spouse or partner who’s usually at work for much of the day? (Isn’t this similar to surviving retirement with your spouse?)
Worse — are you stuck living in a confined space with a spouse you’re in the middle of divorcing? (My stomach turns at the very thought.)
Are you a crazed captive, caught between a rock and a hard place as you juggle work-from-home and kids and (unwanted) home-schooling and your own cabin fever?
Are you worried about your aging parents or grandparents? Are you missing your adult children who may live on the other side of the world? Are you putting off a wedding, unable to attend a graduation, unable to experience your own wedding or graduation?
Are you too isolated in the best of times, now facing an overwhelming sense of desolation?
Or… Are you approaching this peculiar period as a time for self-care without guilt? Time to take long baths? To organize drawers? To clean out your closets? Perhaps you prefer to catch up on correspondence? To learn a language online? To tend to your garden — literally or virtually? Are you, in fact, relieved to live the forced days and nights exempted from the usual grind, even as you recognize the seriousness of the situation for all of us?
And then there’s this… congregations beginning to offer online religious services, even online weddings and Bar Mitzvahs! Not only are faith leaders exploring these options to connect their communities, but individuals are doing so as well and with enormous generosity. (Just poke around the usual social media venues. So many online meeting options that can take advantage of meeting platforms.)
Pandemic Proclivities?
Few if any of us are unconcerned about the growing realities of the COVID-19 pandemic. We’re worried about our families, our friends, our co-workers. Worried about our health. Worried about lost jobs. Worried about making ends meet.
Many of us are doing what we can, any way we can — following the rules when it comes to staying home, concocting creative ideas for looking after children, connecting via virtual “visiting” with parents and grandparents we can’t see in person, or running errands for neighbors who must self-isolate.
In times of challenge? People pitch in. Courageously. Unselfishly. And we — our government entities — owe our healthcare and other front-line workers the decisive action to get them the personal protective equipment that they need.
Thank goodness for their dedication. But they should not have to put their lives at risk for lack of masks, gowns, and gloves!
And I worry about those whose plight is less frequently illuminated — workers who are stocking supermarket shelves, and those who are cleaning, cleaning, cleaning and disinfecting surfaces everywhere commercial activities continue.
Anxiety in All Its Forms
I live in an old building with gloriously worn floorboards… that creak. Every morning before she heads to the office (and every night when she returns), I hear my neighbor’s floorboards creak as she moves about the apartment overhead. And lately, I get the impression that she’s moving furniture more often than usual. (She moves furniture when she’s restless and stressed.)
My anxiety? It rears its horrid head through sleep deprivation. And yes, worry.
I worry about our vulnerable election systems (that don’t accommodate SAFE voting remotely). I worry that members of Congress, already so easily stalled in partisan stonewalling, will soon be social isolating in large numbers and thus even less able to get things done. I worry about people — “ordinary” people — and how stressed and scared we are though we may hesitate to show it. I worry about my sons and their friends, and their youthful impression that they are impervious to harm (or a virus).
My moments of anxiety are typically managed through exercise, which isn’t an option right now, and through writing, watching old movies, and… dare I admit… emotional eating… Pass the fries and ice cream!
That last? Sheesh. I’ve been really struggling. And eventually I’ll finish the junk food reserves in the back of the freezer, at which time I will certainly be in need of the post-pandemic diet…
I am, however, thoroughly at ease with days of solitude; I sometimes think this is a reaction to two decades of juggling a career and kids, most of those years solo, and simultaneously working from home.
And, I am something of an introvert. For me, alone time is not the enemy; on the contrary, it is generally my friend.
But my neighbor’s anxiety? Her unease with solitary pursuits that is so different from my propensity for solo life?
The toll that isolation takes on her is huge. She truly needs a daily dose of vocal, face-to-face interaction. She needs to talk. And she needs to rearrange her furniture!
Tolerance for Isolation Varies. Don’t Judge!
A few days ago my neighbor sent a flurry of texts. Then there was a phone call during which she confessed that she doesn’t do well without hearing a voice and engaging in conversation. What followed were two impromptu chats through my (closed) front door and waving at each other, exuberantly, through a window.
I had to laugh at her enthusiasm for these small moments of connection — enjoyable connection at that. And I lectured myself on the need to be understanding with others whose lower tolerance for solitude is more common than my propensity for alone time. So do be patient with your friends, your children, your parents, your neighbors, and your co-workers who respond differently and deal with circumstances unlike your own.
I am reminded of an old joke. You may or may not agree with its relevance. But here goes.
How do porcupines mate? Verrrrry carefully.
I find myself considering the social distancing and social isolation topics in a similar albeit serious frame; we need to approach our own “new normal” activities with great care. Part of that care includes recognizing and accepting that not only do we experience wide variations in our tolerance for alone time, but likewise the absence of physical touch.
Moreover, we shouldn’t judge the anxiety level, the manifestation of anxiety, or tolerance for isolation in others by our own standards and experience. Just because we’re doing okay doesn’t mean that others are doing okay.
How then should we engage, whether at a distance or in relative proximity?
Verrrrry carefully. With patience. With kindness. Without judgment.
(And yes — with hand-washing!)
What About Sex? What About Romance? What About Affection?
So what about those of us who are married, living together, or in relationships? And no, I won’t go into the advisability (or lack thereof!) of hooking up…
This article on social distancing while in a relationship offers a few tips — no doubt titillating tips for some of you — recommending “creativity” in your amorous activities courtesy of sexting, Skyping, and similar. (Might I remind you to exercise discretion, keeping in mind the degree of trust and seriousness of the relationship even in your electronic exchange?)
I’m recalling one of the most delicious (and romantic) relationships I ever enjoyed, much of which was shared with my man on one side of the Atlantic and yours truly on the other. We spent several hours of each day online — chatting, cooking, even watching television together! (For me, this was un plaisir to be sure, gazing through my monitor to see his tv in France!) We also wrote each other long letters.
Letter writing. Remember that?
Our courtship was enhanced by the forced distance, encouraging us to create a profound and significant emotional bond.
But an ongoing relationship or marriage that requires an indefinite, extended period apart?
That’s another story, of course.
What Comforts You? What Reassures You? How Are You Doing Without Touch?
A hug can be enormously comforting, don’t you think? But if you live alone — or if you’re now social distancing or social isolating — hugs are out of the question.
How do you live with someone you love and not hug them? (Can’t imagine it, unless you live together and don’t actually like each other anymore.) How do you manage when you’re just at the beginning of an intimate relationship, and now you’re advised to cool it? (OMG. A good intimate relationship is tough enough to find! Must we really now avoid all physical contact?)
It’s one thing to live without sex, but what about physical affection? Isn’t affection more important than sex for sustaining many relationships? Isn’t affection a key element of many familial relationships? Isn’t it essential to our humanity?
Sure, if you have a pet, no doubt you’ve got a leg up against loneliness! You can still assure yourself physical connection to a part of your family. You’re comforted by Spot’s sweet face, the warmth of Bowser’s body against yours, or the pleasure of Tabby’s even breathing as you stroke her belly or scratch behind her ear.
What reassures me?
Look, I’ve already explained that I’m accustomed to not participating in routine social interaction. This is a matter of how I earn my living and equally, managing chronic pain. Nonetheless, all sorts of sounds and visuals are part of my (reassuring) universe — familiar voices (on the phone or in the background), familiar films (as I fall asleep or to alter my mood), and — drumroll please — laughter!
Oh, how I’ve missed late-night talk shows with their tickle-the-funny-bone, outrageous monologues! Oh, how grateful I was for Stephen Colbert at home and his bathtub broadcast! (I’m searching for any opportunity to laugh these days. Thank you, Netflix, for Amy Schumer’s raucous, real-world humor. Your suggestions?)
What else?
The stories my sons may share with me — neither “in the neighborhood” to say the least — and not only their amusing anecdotes but their texts, their social media postings, and in the case of my younger son, his drawings.
And yes, the news. Facts. Trusted journalists, both broadcast and print.
So Much for Plans to Work… or Date!
Opportunities, prospects, and leads are drying up — fast — even with long experience working remotely. God knows, life as a freelancer/contractor or contingent workforce participant has its ups and downs, but this is especially scary. Beyond being paid to contribute my knowledge and skills, I am missing the engagement with clients.
In addition, months of hard work (and not-easy-to-come-by out-of-pocket funds) in physical therapy and associated rehabbing/strengthening my long ago-injured limbs — I was so proud of my progress! I was hopeful that I might begin dating again — well, it’s all gone up in smoke. At least, for now.
Naturellement, this isn’t the end of the world. Not by a long shot. Still, I confess: I miss the touch of a hand, the comfort of an embrace, the intimacy of a proximate knowing glance, not to mention… eh bien, I leave it to you to fill in the blank!
But I am not without my recourse to joy — the artworks that can be viewed online, the images in my own collection of art books, the words of great poets in volumes lining my shelves.
And, surprising to one not known for a green thumb or a history of gardening, I am struck by the satisfaction of nurturing my houseplants. I’ve been nudging them through the winter in a darkened apartment, and thrilling to the earliest buds and leaves that open toward the light. Hello? A lovely and welcome metaphor?
The pleasure of seeing something grow and flourish, of helping it along, of basking in nature’s power to soothe… immense.
My gratitude that my kids are raised and that I’m no longer living the solo-parent juggle that is now so much more burdensome… enormous.
My hope and wish that these words find you and yours in good health (and smartly social distancing or isolating)… heartfelt.
My occasional day of dubious drop in mood? (I’ve been distancing/isolating for two weeks now; Day 9 was dreadful, no idea why, though not the case before or since.) I text or call a friend. I smile at pictures of my kids. I count my blessings. I turn to De Kooning and Diebenkorn, to Stephen Colbert and Amy Schumer. And I hope, by sharing my experience, in some small way, to be of service to you.
As always, I welcome your thoughts.
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It is ironic that both a lack of distancing and distancing itself can be hazardous, depending on the circumstances. Although our distancing is currently necessary for survival, it is horrible, in all forms (physical and emotional), otherwise.
I am immensely glad my mother is deceased and does not have to go through the isolation of being in a facility with no visitors. Her last year was spent mostly at home, and each week was filled with an assortment of visiting health workers. I’m sure the social interaction benefited her in equal measure to the medical care. When we could no longer care for her and had to move her to a paid facility she lasted only ten days, and passed after one day of not having been visited. I can’t imagine the trauma for those on either side of this enforced separation. I know she would not have been able to tolerate it.
Thank you for your thoughtful comments, Robert. Like you, I have been thinking of someone I loved very much who lived in an elder care facility. Regular visits were so crucial to her well-being. I cannot imagine how incredibly painful it must be for those living this separation in that kind of circumstance or similar.
Even worse than the isolation of elderly couples etc is the plight of elderly living alone. With no contacts.
I am one of those. I am 84 but because I am a reasonably fit 84 year old, albeit type 2 diabetic, and I am isolating for my own good, because I have nobody else around I still have to go and try to buy some food I did hear that there is a group somewhere locally to help some people, but so far it hasn’t found me and I haven’t found it. I know others are far needier than I am, but I am now spending most of my time trying to concoct strange dishes from what I have left and to stretch all as far as possible. Somebody must have heard or read something I had written because yesterday I received an application form for Attendance Allowance, for which I would not qualify as it was entirely income connected and I have an adequate state pension and NHS pension. I do not need an attendance Allowance or a carer’s Allowance, as I would qualify for neither, but because of this isolation, I am very very lonely and can imagine that many in the same position will be depressed, leading to a rise in the suicide rate. Sometimes I even wonder if there is a secret desire with authorities for this to happen and solve the over-population problem.. we older folk may not catch Corona Virus but we just might die from isolation, be it through starvation or depression leading to suicide. I, unfortunately, lost an email which would have linked me to my friends at church (Now closed).
I get it. I will email you and we can correspond (if you like). Interested?
Mrs. Blackwood
It isn’t even a secret desire. In the U.S. the Texas Lt. Governor came right out and said yesterday that he was sure the elderly would be happy to die for THE ECONOMY. Not for the good of their children, or the good of society, but for “the economy”. Trying to completely shift governmental (i.e. all people) responsibility onto the frail, with benefits accruing to the well-off.