I’ve been crying at random times since the first weekend of October.
I cried when Mark proudly reported he had an awesome day at school because his class had “the good corner.”
“The good corner?”
Yes, the good corner. Turns out kids are dispatched all over the giant schoolyard at recess, but, of course, groups can’t interact, kids can’t touch each other and there’s no playground equipment. However, there is a tree in one of the corners, so Mark was delighted it was finally their turn to play around a tree instead of playing with, well, nothing. I mean, how pathetic is that?
So I went to my room and cried over Mark’s Grade 3 jail-like experience. Then I cried some more thinking of the alternative—online learning.
A few days later, I cried when I showed up at Starbucks after a productive morning only to find out tables and chairs were gone—and so was the option to sit down, takeout only again.
I cried when on October 5, we got our first “an individual has tested positive for COVID-19” email from school. I cried with relief around midnight because we weren’t contacted for further instructions, which meant Mark wasn’t a close contact this time.
I did the same crying-waiting-crying routine two days later when we received the exact same email for yet another positive case—again, Mark wasn’t affected.
Forgive me for being a bit emotional. We only had a month of semi-normalcy since we came back from France late August and yes, I do realize I’m lucky because I had a good summer.
But first, upon return, we had to complete the mandatory 14-day self-isolation period, which is such a fucked up experience I can’t even write about it. I kept on wondering if the police would be sent if I didn’t pick up the phone for perfectly legit reasons, like taking a shower or simply not hearing it.
Then life resumed, or at least, kind of. Nothing terribly exciting, really. In September, I saw four friends in total, met with my accountant, had coffee indoors twice, started going to the gym five days a week again and got a bit of work, which was a relief. Mark went back to school on September 15. The three of us spent the last hot day of the year at Gatineau Park and even this was strongly discouraged. Oh, and last weekend we ended up in a coffee shop when it started to rain during a walk along the Rideau Canal.
I didn’t have the chance to go to the movie theatre, to a restaurant, to a mall or just fucking breathe. It wasn’t completely business as usual, mind you. Ottawa only entered stage 3 on July 17—i.e. most businesses allowed to reopen—and it took weeks to restart and adapt operations. Plenty of places never reopened, either closing for good or waiting for stage 4.
I knew another lockdown was likely. “Red zone” Montreal began a month-long partial lockdown on October 1.
We were next. On October 9, “hotspots” Ottawa and Toronto reverted to a “modified” stage 2 shutting down indoor dining, gyms and movie theatres. We were urged to “limit trips outside of home, except for essential purposes.”
You guessed it, I cried again. I learned the news at the gym, actually, and when I left the manager herself was crying. “We did everything right,” she sighed when she saw me. “There has been no outbreaks linked to gyms.”
Okay, I sound super entitled here. This is where I should probably point out I’m not obsessed with my gym and Starbucks. Yes, thank you, I know I can work out at home—I did it from March to August. I can also make coffee at home. My life doesn’t revolve around these two places.
It’s not about the gym or the coffee shop.
It’s about mental health and having somewhere to go.
I signed up at the gym and discovered I enjoyed working out when a brand-new fitness centre opened a twenty minute’s walk from home, but I could just as well have joined a book club, a knitting club or a yoga centre. I’ve been working from home for ten years now so it’s my social moment of the day, a break from my computer. Same goes for Starbucks. I don’t give a damn about Starbucks, it just happens to be the closest coffee shop where I can walk to once a day for a break and caffeine.
I find it terrifying that I literally have nowhere to go and that soon, just going for a walk won’t be that easy. Newsflash—it’s cold in Canada.
Sure, we’ve been through that before, just a few months ago actually. But back in March, April or May, I—and probably millions of people—had no idea what was going on. We were scared. The message was simple: “please flatten the curve, we need time to learn about COVID.” The shutdown felt like a one-time event, a tough experience but we were looking forward to brighter days ahead—literally, actually, since spring was fairly mild and we all quickly started spending time outside.
This time, I find it hard to convince myself I’m playing a role in the global fight against COVID. Restrictions are all over the place and feel completely random—they don’t make me feel any safer. I’m not even sure the number of cases will drop since transmission apparently mostly occurs during private gatherings—good luck cracking down on them especially if people have nowhere to go. Lockdowns don’t even look that effective since numbers go back up when restrictions are lifted.
So what the fuck is the plan for wave #3, #4, #5? The vaccine, if any, will be a process, not an event. It’s going to take months or years. Are we going to resort to shutdowns every few weeks? How sustainable is that? Is it worth it?
I don’t know for you but I don’t think I have what it takes to stay home and avoid people for months.
So I’m crying.
I’m crying for my closest friend in Canada who is facing the imminent death of her father (old age, not COVID) and a logistical nightmare to travel to France.
I’m crying for my friend who gave birth in March and is having the worst maternity leave ever because she’s bored and lonely at home with her baby girl.
I’m crying for all the people who just lost their job again merely weeks after being hired back and through no fault of their own except working in the “wrong” industry.
I’m crying for the teacher next door who had to self-isolate for two weeks three days after starting school—she tested negative, but mandatory isolation anyway. So many of my friends with kids are in the same boat, waiting for test results…
I’m crying for all of us constantly adapting, going from plan A to plan Z in the same week.
I’m crying for people directly and indirectly impacted by COVID, for lives disrupted around the world.
Well, whoever you are, thank you for reading this. We’re all sick of COVID news or rants, I’m sorry. I hope you’re dealing with it better than I am.
Je comprends que ce n’est pas facile et je comprends chacune de tes pleurs. Oui, nous sommes tous dans le même bateau (je ne sais pas si tu as entendu le discours de Macron hier, les restrictions ré-augmentent en France). Il faut réussir à voir ce que l’on peut encore faire, ce qui reste de beau dans le monde, comment on arrive à s’en sortir jusque là. J’essaie de ne pas subir les plans et les barrières, juste de me dire qu’il faut le faire. C’est le nouveau “normal”. Ca ne durera pas pour toujours, mais ça va être ce “normal”-là pendant encore environ 1 an. So, we have to go with the flow… (J’espère tellement que je ne t’aurais pas fait pleurer de nouveau!!! Sinon, j’en suis désolée désolée désolée.) Courage sister!
Oh yeah, I was glued to French news yesterday because I know my family is directly affected. Well, for now mostly my brother and sister in Paris. It really sucks. It’s hard to explain that I’m not in denial, COVID is a real issue, but I’m also scared of the other side effects I’m starting to see around me–mostly economic and social. Some of the restrictions are harder to swallow than others. Like, I’m not going to claim I love facemasks but they are realtively innucuous (for me at least). Other restrictions affect me more.
You’re wiser than me (is it the yoga effect?? ;-)) Are you doing okay?
Ahah, maybe a bit of yoga effect but it’s mostly due to the fact the confinement has done some real good on me (I spared myself 2 hours driving 4 days per week). And I have paid the same. In the company I worked, it has been quiet but it was okay until September, I’d say. And I really thought every company would start working again quite normally from September. By for a week or 2, I can see that it’s really the *merde*. Very few new orders. We started partial unemployment in the workshop (one week we have half of the team, the other week the other half, so the few remaining projects don’t go that fast). The phone seems dead. Very few enquiries coming in. It started last week to freak me out. But I just have to carry on… It’s my job! You take care!
I’m alays happy when I hear that the situation has surprisingly “good” side effects for some people. No, I’m not being sarcastic! My mum was in the same boat, she loves her job but she has a really long commute so at least, during the lockdown, she didn’t have to get up at 6 a.m. anymore (still hated the lockdown but hey, at least she was more rested somehow).
I have no idea how Canada is going to deal with the many upcoming economic issues. It’s crazy. At least France ended the lockdown at one point… but many industries have been paralyzed since March here.
It truly sucks. Here lockdowns have been eased so we are at least free to move about, with masks on. Just have to do the routine temperature checks and get sprayed with sanitiser before entering most buildings.
But yes, 2020 has been a challenge. Hope we all get through this.
Where is temperature typically taken? I think one supermarket implemented it in Ottawa, not sure if it’s still in effect (it was before mandatory face masks). Otherwise, I only had it at the airport.
I do hope we will get through it. Stay safe!
Your rant about crying actually made my cry. At least I wasn’t crying alone this time!
We were also lucky to enjoy an incredible month of normal and covid free life in the good part of Canada. And the way back to Québec, then the lockdown in Montréal, then the “zombie apocalypse” feeling we had in our way back to France… And then Macron… And then my winter jobless and alone in the country. Yep, I think crying will be the best way to cope. I can’t think about next year yet!
Courage <3
Okay, this is not funny but I realized last night you were back in France (been off Twitter, too many crazy people on both sides) and I could picture you taken the subway or at CDG with your eyes closed and your hands in your pockets “must not breathe, must not breathe…” 😆 Not making fun of you BTW, it’s just that even I always get a bit of a shock coming from “clean Canada”, so I can imagine for you, coming from clean and COVID-free Canada…!
You’re not alone 😉 (you did bring him back, right? Not the alpaca, your legal half???)
Yes I agree it’s been a crazy and now Europe too is going into another lockdown mode and shutdowns; with now finish line in sight, this is absolutely gut wrenching. Hang in there, but yes you’re right mental health and the need for human interaction is at risk.
I pray your family remains safe…I’m sad too because traveling back to Brazil since a January visit doesn’t seem likely. Thanks for the write up.
Hey you! I hope you’re doing okay, whereever you are in the world now (home?). I’m starting to worry about my family in France again, but they sound normal and not that scared so that’s something. I mean, it’s a crappy situation but the media do make you believe other places are on the verge of collapsing, reality on the ground tend to be a bit better. At least that’s what I tell myself…
Je me console au moins en me disant qu’au moins je ne suis pas coincée à Paris dans un petit appart comme sortir est compliqué avec la densité de population.
Yep, that’s something!
“It’s not about the gym or the coffee shop.” –> Oh comme je comprends tout ce qui se cache derrière cette phrase…
Le “premier” confinement n’a pas été trop dur pour moi, on avait trouvé un bon rythme et ça s’est plutôt bien passé… mais là, si ça devait se reproduire, ce serait beaucoup plus difficile :/ Ici, le nombre de cas à bondi en l’espace de quelques jours, ça fait quand même peur. J’aurais aimé pouvoir te réconforter, mais ça va être difficile.
I thought about you this week because I heard about Switzerland going from “all good” to “oh shit” apparently very quickly. I hope the country will handle it without further restrictions!
When I wrote this article, I also thought about you when you mentioned a few weeks ago you were so happy going back to the library. Same as me going to the gym, I suppose–technically, you can probably find everything you need online and I’m sure you have a desk at home but it feels good to be somewhere else, in a neutral place, for a fresh perspective.
Oof. I feel you!! I am around for walks! Or just hanging out in the backyard in case one of us needs to pee 😉
Eh, you’re back from the other hot spot in the province! I’ll be in touch 😉
Je devine à quel point c’est difficile, et je pense que tu résumes très bien cette idée de n’avoir nulle part où aller. Je nous souhaite que les choses évoluent positivement et rapidement…
Are you affected by the current 28-day shutdown in Quebec or are you in an okay zone?
Yes we are ! Restaurants are closed and sport activities are no longer authorized (si c’est un cours car tu peux encore accéder aux activités libres)
So pretty much the same. Are you handling it okay? What do you do for fun, to get out of the house? Still working from home, BTW?
Yes we are actually. The weather does not always help but we try to be outside as much as possible. We order take outs once a week from Local restaurants (to support them), I’m bringing the girls on Friday to a horse riding lesson and on Sunday, we booked a time slot at our local arena to do ice skating (only 25 people allowed, so you have to book before but it’s free). What I try not to do is planning too much ahead, or see if I’ll be able to travel in the next 6 months. I try to stay focus on the day to day life.
I wish I could just “live the present” but I find it hard to not plan *anything* at all. I think that was the hardest with the new restrictions, I really didn’t see them coming and they were implemented almost overnight.
We don’t have any activities (allowed) right now :-/ Is this an indoor rink?
J’adore Marina Rollman.
La chronique du jour : « Toutes des putes »
https://youtu.be/25DiQKQThME
Hilarant ET SURTOUT pertinent.
Je note pour demain 😉