The pandemic has now lasted for over 9 months.

Nine months.

Mask-wearing. Social distancing. Quarantining. Fears of unknown and of known. Anxiety every time you cough or sneeze. Is it a cold? Allergies? Is my breath more labored than normal? Is it just anxiety about this deadly virus we know very little about? Or is it, in fact, COVID?

It might feel like it’s been longer. It also might feel like it all began yesterday. Maybe it feels like both at once.

But it has, in fact, been 9 months of living through a reality ripped out of a Suzanne…

The crowd was dispersing and fleeing. We were trapped. We were all cramming together, trying to get to the gate that was holding us in place. Tear gas was everywhere. I kept hearing bangs behind me, knowing that more was being deployed. People were scrambling. I could feel my eyes and face burning. I tried rinsing off the chemicals the best I could and rinsing those around me with the spray bottle I had. Amazing humans were putting themselves at risk by helping to hoist people up and over this 10 foot fence that stood in our way. And that’s…

Can you imagine living through a pandemic without the internet? Without endless amounts of digital content? Without instant ways to connect with family, friends, and even coworkers?

It would suck. It would suck far more than it currently — most certainly — does.

But we’re adjusting. We’re doing our best. People are being more intentional with their time, more intentional with reaching out to one another, more intentional with checking in on one another. Because of all this intentionality, I might (ironically) be busier now than before Covid.

Even the less intentional methods of staying connected are helpful. Social media…

Spring used to be my most devastating time of year. Ironic, right? But as the days grew longer and the sun grew brighter, I retreated. I knew that I should be enjoying that time. I knew that there should be relief. I knew I should be going out and enjoying the reprieve from a harsh winter.

I have so many vivid memories windows. Of staring at them from the inside of my room. These objects are so often used to express opportunity or transparency or freedom but — at the time — only meant the opposite. …

It’s Day… Whatever of Lockdown. Everywhere around me people are reaching outside of their comfort zones, trying to adjust to the New Normal. Going above and beyond to try and stay healthy and connected during this confusing time. Probably using features and apps in ways you hadn’t ever planned on. (I, for one, never expected to receive a Zoom invite from my dad.)

What I’ve found to help me is to stick to some kind of loose morning routine. To have a sleep schedule. I’ve been trying to move throughout the day and get some sunlight if I can. But…

We’re going through some uncertain times. People are being urged to cancel plans. Businesses are closing. Income streams are being threatened. It can be a lot to handle and take in.

The concern for health and containment of the virus is valid and should be taken seriously. Chief among the recommendations we’re receiving is to socially distance yourself: cancel plans, don’t go to crowded places, please for the love of all that is holy DO NOT GO OUT FOR ST. PATTY’S DAY.

There should, however, be an effort to maintain a sense of normalcy. Well, as close to that as…

I never thought I could draw.

I apparently had a knack for music and writing. But as far as I was concerned, all of the visual art genes were given to my sister.

She was often coming up with new ideas and new creations. I would watch as she would create murals and sketches. Seemingly coming forth from her as fully realized concepts.

I would then slink off to the next room to try and create something comparable.

However, I never felt like my efforts turned out well. So I eventually gave up. Surrendered the visual arts to my sister.

…

There have been two times in my life when I have found myself in relationships where I no longer had any sort of connection to myself. I was able to tell something was wrong, but it was difficult to put a finger on exactly what was happening.

More often than not, I would blame myself. I was too _______ (fat, needy, sensitive, erratic, indecisive). Mostly, I figured there was something about myself that I needed to fix.

It didn’t occur to me that it was more about the context I found myself in rather than who I was as a…