The Eloise

Days have never slipped so easily into one another. The world has been forced into an uncomfortable lifestyle with an equally distressing transition. Most of us didn’t see it coming. In January of this year, I went through my own transition. A shift that called for isolation and reflection, and funny enough, it worked. Once I thought I’d figured myself out, moved on to a new job, (even picked up a part time position), I felt like I’d gotten a better hold of myself. Exercising more control over my emotions, and recognizing when I felt the need to act impulsively felt like a huge step in the right direction. I still worried about things, and I’m still not completely happy in my current life situation but it definitely helped me be at ease about certain things. The secret to finally doing a good job at a thing called life; only to have it shaken and put on hold a few weeks later.

I do have a lot to be thankful for despite being stuck inside. I’m fortunate enough to still get paid, and I don’t have to be quarantined at my mother’s house. People have lost jobs, lives, family members and friends. But the loss I think that surprised everyone most was the certainty that came with our daily routines, routines that we took for granted. My usual worries are still here, but other things are on my mind now as well. I’m probably not alone in feeling that between quarantine and the paranoia surrounding the virus itself, a different kind of stress can be felt lingers in those 6ft spaces. Mundane tasks are now a challenge, a burden even. Waiting in line to buy avocados, coupled with the lack of boneless chicken thighs or ground beef. Eyes glowering above cloth masks, and rude stares as you inch by one another on the sidewalk. Social media has somehow managed to become even more repetitive and mournful. Instagram and Tik Tok weren’t slowing down to begin with, but now it’s morphed into one large cluster of quarantine selfies and dance routines. Even still, though -I figure things could be much worse. I’ve gone through worse but at times I still find myself slipping.

I’ve struggled with suicidal ideation a lot this past year, but January really was a breaking point for me. Between being frustrated with the current place I was in on top of a general lack of hope about situations that were going on I was dealing with a lot. Then, I wished so badly to be able to start my life over. I ruminated, and reflected on every mistake I’d made in high school and college. With the pandemic, I found myself reliving those moments I’d had this past winter. It was on a much smaller scale fortunately, but even as we approach three weeks of quarantine I’m a little shaken at how easily my psyche can be rocked if I don’t stay focused on something. I’ll credit most of it to the fact that I’d never fathomed something like this happening. Even when I saw things on the new start to appear more urgent, I was unable to picture how far it could go. False information and skepticism played a part as well.

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“Idk how to feel about anything” was the tweet that I sent on August 13, 2014 at 3:19 p.m.  It wasn’t days later until I realized how powerful my 6 word tweet really was.  It had been about something completely different, then I started to really think about my perceptions and feelings when I look at all the things that I’ve seen seeing go on around the world this past week.  I look at these things and wonder about all that was lost, such as common sense, love, and accountability.  The Mike Brown situation that’s occurring in Ferguson is so bizarre to me.  It’s bizarre in the sense that just a week ago this young man was living his life.  It’s bizarre that the media is trying to bend our minds by presenting information that, in my opinion has nothing to do with that fact that a young person is dead for no reason.  Who gives a fuck if he did rob a convenient store, does that automatically mean that his murder is justified? Some people feel that it does, and that in and of itself is disheartening.   

I know how to feel about them treating the city of Ferguson like a war zone when all it’s people want is an explanation. The images are hard to look at.  The stories of black people getting shot or beaten by police at random is crazy.  The fact that this is supposed to be 2014 and all of this is still happening is…well, ridiculous.  I wonder, did we stop fighting too soon.  All the different views and opinions make it hard.  Having Twitter has been both a blessing and a curse for me at times.  Twitter allows us to follow and be involved.  It creates a push when we are all able to come together and voice our thoughts.  It also shows me that not everyone in the world is progressive.  Some people are stuck and always will be. There’s nothing more to be said about them because they don’t need the attention.  

Generally I try and stay quiet.  I’m quiet because in my mind I’m trying to configure how things like this happen.  The world does not always use logic. But sometimes the answers are there, in the logic.  It wasn’t logical to kill Mike Brown, or John Crawford, or Ezell Ford.  But it happened. Do you hate us?  Why? You drug us over here. Why? This blog post was for me and only me.  I just needed to write so I could try and figure out this puzzle.