It feels woefully inadequate to call the times we’re living in “weird”. Seven months ago I was furious at being confined to a hospital and a group home. I felt the world passing me by. The goals I had established postponed until this voluntary imprisonment ran its course. Nothing felt real in those environments because they were waystations. Places meant only for temporary habitation while clients worked to get their minds right.

I’m grateful for those places and for the time to heal, but now I feel trapped by the opposite scenario. Confined to my apartment and my parents’ home, I am furious that the pause button was pressed on real life right when I was ready to get on with mine.

What I certainly can call weird is that I’m doing almost all the things I would do in a depression, but I’m not depressed. Electroconvulsive therapy took the sting out of my mental illness and the medication keeps me level. What I can’t avoid is the feeling of being depressed because COVID-19 stuck me in my apartment and isolated me from most human contact. I don’t need a pandemic to isolate and stay in bed. I do that quite well by myself.

I have to be careful that I don’t get sucked into my old feedback loop of: feeling depressed because I’m not doing much and not doing much because I feel depressed. I’ve had to find a greater sense of accomplishment in much smaller endeavors such as cooking myself dinner, cleaning the bathroom, and reading a few chapters. Hell, if I make my bed I feel a parade is in order! The troubling thought is that I could fall back into a true depression because I’m stuck and not all of my habits are good ones. Fortunately, I have a lot of people checking in on me. Sometimes it can get a bit annoying, but after staying in hospitals multiple times I’ve had to grow accustomed to a certain level of inquiry into my mental state.

If nothing else, this situation is forcing me to reconsider an old misconception of mine — that my worth is only measured by what I do. Since childhood I assumed that my value as a person was tied to what I managed to accomplish. This drove me to accomplish a great deal in several different domains, but it all felt hollow. I rarely took time to enjoy the journey; interested only in getting to the mountain top. Problem is, once you’re on top of the mountain the elation wears off quickly until it is replaced entirely by a desire to reach another mountaintop.

It’s a guiding philosophy that generally leads to success, but rarely fulfillment. I’m trying to keep my focus on my feet during these weird days. Some days they take me far. Other days, they take me to the couch. All the days, I need to be okay with whatever progress is made.