Warning, this is a long one

“Isolation, loneliness, seclusion, quarantine, separation, segregation, inclusion (antonym), remoteness, inaccessibility.”  Or, being box up. All these words are just the a few that express these last few months of isolation.

I am not the only one, and I am sure plenty of you understand.  There have been lots of videos on YouTube and feature on the news of how people are coping.  Most are funny and we laugh at the reality behind them too.  We all are in this “experiment” together.  It is creating great data on how these last few months have taught me quite a bit about myself and my expectations of myself.  But nowhere, no where is the elephant in the room talked about. 

My mom, when she was alive, was known in our family for her phone calls.  She would call us two to three times a day.  It got to a point that I would let her calls just go to voice mail to see if it were so vital to answer.  There was just so much you can say in one day…at least that was how I felt then.  My siblings were in the same boat as I.  When there was an event, like meeting up with the family for dinner, outing or holiday, the phone calls would escalate.  What time?  What should I wear?  Who is going to pick me up?  Tons, and tons of questions that would be tons of extra calls.  And if there was a weather storm coming…oh my word look out!  Did you close your window?   Did you cover the flowers?  Why would you be going out?  Then you add my aunt and her phone calls, well they could have their own phone company with all those calls.  We all had them, including my cousins.  The greeting “What are you doing?”  even when she just called that morning, it echoes through my memories.  At her funeral, we found out that we were not the only ones.  She called her church people, her friends everyone!  It is amazing the phone was not attached to her ear permanently. 

We can tell these stories now as part of our family folklore, and we laugh as someone will share another unknown story about it.  But what I did not fully understand then that I do now is the isolation she and my aunt were in.

This new norm is not.  This is not normal for any of us.  It is not part of who we are.  Yes, some people do enjoy and thrive on some isolation.  But it is not what we as humans are.  We need each other.  If only to pull out our fears of an upcoming storm.  It is also a check and balance on how we communicate to each other.  Things we would never say eye to eye or voice to voice we have found an unhealthy medium to express ourselves…. isolation.

For me, it started with working from home.  Now, who would not love the idea not having someone over your head checking on you.  You do not have to dress up, you do not even have to comb your hair (unless you are on a Zoom call).  But after you take a week to set up your new “office” and set your goals you start shifting.  I struggled with finding a routine.  Routine for me is how I function at work.  My routine first thing when I walked into my office was dealing with one disaster after another until 2:00 pm when I could breathe and start doing desk work.  This was the first shift.  There were no disasters.  Good news, then I could work on my desk job.  But that shifted too!  I had to really search for work.  I realize my day to day job was tied to my work environment at another location.  As I started to realize that I adapted and created new goals, that needed deep thinking and the quietness I had at my new home office.  I started working longer hours, no breaks (except the bathroom and something to drink).  I was thriving on this new routine, but it was inclusive.  So, I started to call.

You know when you are catching someone who really do not have time to talk to you.  You hear it in their voice.  You know to move back and excuse yourself and go for the next call.  On my to do list I started to keep track of those calls and one day was astonished on the length of some of my calls.  I am a communicator, and sometimes when I am nervous, I talk and talk.  If in my pauses the other side is not talking, it motivates me to talk more.  Sad, I know.  But that is who I am, and I try to work on it.  I finally found a workable goal focus routine that I did not feel lost in.  I took energy from working with staff to find opportunities for our quarantine families to be engaged in activities.  We developed a weekly activity packet, DVD that was a mirror to our program day, CD of sing-along songs, and now working on a Zoom program.

Then, my program was shut down and closed for good. 

My heart went out for all our caregivers and participants who not only isolated physically, but now…lost to the emptiness of this new norm.

In my despair which was a mourning process of not only what would happen to those individuals and staff, I also was dealing with unemployment.  The month of working from home, I was able to go into work at least once a week.  It was on those trips that I would face the world mask in place and a purse full of cleaner to buy my groceries at “safe” places.  I would learn from others how to work the drop off, pick up of essential items and food pick up from my favorite restaurants.  I was adventurist but cautious.  I always had a habit of cleaning my hands after shopping and careful about germs.  After all, the flu and colds have been around a lot longer and those can be killers to our clients.  But now, it was changing.  A different norm was appearing.

My days grew longer at first.  I struggled once again to find a routine.  I can only make so many breads, casseroles with so limited of resources.  Yes, I even tried sourdough starter when the stores and internet went dry on yeast.  I had a new budget, but still enjoy a little freedom.  I found a great farm meat source and a great bakery to buy flour.  I was surviving in the outside, but back home…. I was sinking. 

My calls now were to family and friends.  And soon they would last, for hours!  Across the country I started to check in.  Started to converse and filling my days with human contact.  But it was not enough, yet I was using up all my phone contact list and still had time to spare.  So, I watch like everyone else did tons of TV shows, movies and they all started to blend in.  That was the first week.

Being unemployed I am lucky to live in a state that is known all over the nation for their innovative unemployment model.  They have classes, job support groups, goals, accountability.  They give you money to further your education or gaps in your skills.  They help you find yourself and walk with you through this journey you are on.  And they understand how hard and demeaning it is.  That was before COVID19.  That was during the last recession.  What was done in joint sessions with others that you could sit with and talk with were now Zoom meetings.  They were informative and in the first two months my calendar was filled with classes.  Fantastic classes.  The job support groups did Zoom meetings with lectures and cheerleading encouragement.  But no human contact.  As our state closed so did opportunities of that human contact. Yet, I signed up for everything and did everything.  My calendar was pack full of classes, lectures etc.  In job support group you have a score card.  200 points a week is a goal and means you are doing good.  My average was 1800 a week!   Even taken advantage of college classes the government has offered.  I was so fearful of not finding a job. Therefore, I did everything! 

Then one Sunday evening after I turn off the lights to go to bed, I started to cry, not a little but a down right hurricane cry.  To most of my friends and family I am optimistic, glass full type of person.  I have a strong faith and genuinely believe I am not alone.  I draw on that.  In bad times before, I was the encourager or was told how strong I was.  But, like all of us, we can be deceivers.  Part of being unemployed is the roller coaster of emotions.  It is not laterial….it is up and down and at times off the graft.  I was amazed by my reactions.  I fought hard not to allow it to surface.  Yet it had to emerge.  That cry was the real me.

I was scared, alone, isolated in a way I have never known before.  When I would hear people talk about their isolation they would end with “at least I have my husband, or children etc.”   I have only me.  I started to resent people who talked about family zoom meetings, game nights etc.  I was happy for them, but it accentuated my loneliness.  I could go days without any form of contact with the outside world.  Because of the dismal COVID and riots, I stop watching the news.  Because one movie was melting into another, I gave up on them.  Pretty soon, there was no reason to change clothes or brush my hair.   If I slept, I was waking up hour after hour tossing and turning (totally not me – I am normally a deep sleeper in one or two positions for the full night).  I started to sleep longer.  And then, not eating.  If I did eat it was something so simple like chips or cookies.  I had no energy.  I had nothing.

Except for holidays and a birthday or two, a few phone calls that was it.  They say you need to be open to others, when they ask how you are doing, let them know it is a bad day.  I had lean not to.  They do not want to really know.  I tried; it did not work.  As for human touch, no one was able to give me a pat on the shoulder, let alone a long-drawn hug (and I am a true Northern Scandinavian don’t touch me person, but boy I need one). I was missing something here.  And then that Sunday night it hit me.

Monday morning was coming, and I had no purpose.  I had finished all the possible classes with the unemployment workforce, I had finished all the lectures with the job support group.  I had even signed up for repeated classes, I had forgotten I already took.  I upgraded my strength finders and personality traits and all they showed was what I need most is to be accomplishing and when I do not, I am lost.  Here I was the evening before and there was just emptiness before me.  No new classes, no new learning just a pit of darkness.  I could not go on.  I was lost.  I was not suicidal; I was lost in a pit I could not get out of. 

That cry brought me to my God.  All these emotions of striving to survive.  All the physical implications.  All the fears that was presented.  Real or not…they were all taking their toll on me.  I do not remember how long I cried, but like I said before, it was a good one.  What I learn is, I am not perfect.  Yes, it is nice to have acclaims of being strong, etc.  But by trying to be perfect I was placing myself before God.  Only God is perfect, and I am not God.  So why in the world was I trying to be?  That was a spiritual trip for me.  We are taught that because of our faith we should be above our feelings.  Trust, trust, trust.  You are not believing if you do not.  That is not true.  God has time and time again taught us that we are all too human and make mistakes.  As for showing those mistakes, just read Psalms and David’s cries! 

The second thing is having faith in the unknown…that is a leap.  And this is a time of the unknowns!  Not just unemployment, but COVID, isolation, the riots, and the elections.  Normally you would have the opportunity to talk over lunch, dinner with friends, family and discuss this.  But you cannot.  So that night I had some important awakening to accept.  The unknown and where is my faith.  You can be a naysayer and say faith does not matter, but it does.  Without faith you have no hope.  Without hope, well it would be a pit that you would never get out of.

The next morning, I went to another job support group online that I had checked out a few times before but never really gave it a chance.  That day they had a speaker David Cornell.  Unbelievable!  He spoke on his book “Cultivate Courage…Face Fear, fulfill Dreams.”  What an inspirational talk and truth from his own life.  At the end he shared two books that was worth the reading.  They were “if” and “Chase the Lion” by Mark Batterson.  I was so impressed with his presentation that I jump on to amazon and checked out the books.  Actually, there was a first book called: “In a Pit with a Lion On A Snowy day.”  The title alone forced me to buy it.  Two books that would transform my despair.  Those books lead me to a few more and a few more lead me to podcast and webinars.  Pretty soon I was seeing, I was feeling again.  I was learning. 

You see, when I cried out, I was letting go.  I was asking for help.  The book In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy day” is from a verse in the Bible describing one of David’s 37 warriors.  Just a quick reference to a deed this guy did.  But do you know of anyone who did something like that?  He equated that with how the courage this warrior had to have to jump in there in the first place.  And the book is fantastic describing that and other deeds when they can let go of their fears.  I like to also look at the “pit” is at times we “fall into the pit” and our fears about getting out.  And that is where I was at.

I started to think of where I went wrong.  Of course, not being perfect was a start.  I also realize my fear of the unknown was keeping me from what I could, should be doing.  How would people perceive me an unemployed pathetic aging director.  Who would listen to me?  But as in Cultivate Courage I realize I needed to frame my fear.  And was verified in Mark Batterson’s books to get back into the pit and fight it.  That lead me to write a few emails.  Not that I expected to hear back, but felt I needed to say something.  Two of the emails came back with thank you for your thoughts.  One never was answered.  BUT, a month letter one email came to me.  Dr. Joseph E. Gaugler of the University of Minnesota.  He had written an article for the Minneapolis Star Tribune on Our vast family care system for the elderly is at risk of collapse.”   He wrote in his email with a link to his article  that a comment I made inspired him.  I had written:  “..I am not sure how many champions are out there, but ever if there was a time, it is now…this isolation has been a disaster for older people.” 

You see, I like to say that this time was like walking with God in the garden.  At first it was my crying and telling Him all the bad things that I cannot handle and so sad for me.  Then it transformed into God talking to me.  Understanding me, encouraging me, and giving me supports.  And now, He is reminding me that the skills, tools that is me is to be that advocate for them. My mission – ministry for the caregivers and their love one. 

We all will have the stories to tell our future generations where we were and what we did during this time in our lives.  But what we all fail to understand, that this is just a preview. I think back to my mom and her phone calls.  I see now, I feel now, I understand now…her isolation.  So many of us fail to see it at first.  It is a frustration, annoyance, something that is just “mom.”   But weather it is the caregiver or the love one who has the disease – they are isolated.  They are alone.  They are fearful.  They have lost their purpose. They are in a pit.

That day, when you are given the diagnosis, that day you enter the world of a caregiver you start becoming isolated.  You start out busy getting set up for this new norm.  Then as time moves on, you start see newer norms.  Newer events that chip away from who you are now and were.  Friends who once talked for hours or socialized soon dwindle away.  Not knowing what to say, or the fact you talk a lot.  You start seeing life only in your four walls because that is where you are confined.  And then one day pass into another and there is no purpose.  You lose hope.  You are in the pit. 

If we could just channel all the zoom meetings, the playfulness of being quarantine, the “we are in this all together” slogans for our caregivers and love one…. what a difference it would make.  If we could see not only for ourselves but for them and accept the need for socialization, engagement…what a difference it would make.  If we could have all the creative hours that the media industry has had to make to capture our attention and do it for the caregivers and love ones…. What a difference that would make. 

We are starting to emerge out of this epidemic experience.  I use of the word emerge because with knowledge and experience we grow.  Therefore, we are growing slowly but we are.  We know there is no quick answer, there is no end date, there is no fast cure, there is lots of mis information, and those you thought you knew – you do not.  But there are opportunities.  We now can look through new lenses and we can help make a difference for those who have and will experience this isolation again and again long after our epidemic is over.  The questions before us:  “..how many champions are out there, but ever if there was a time, it is now…this isolation has been a disaster for older people.”  Are you a champion?  Are you a warrior willing to jump in a pit with a lion on a snowy day?