I am struggling to motivate myself to complete my project. Is my project even important right now? It feels ignorant and naive to continue with the project as if it were 13 days ago. I am facing a block. So, I guess I will do what all writers do, and write about it.
I thought I cried until I felt numb to my surroundings, but now, I am at home, in my childhood bed, crying again. Thirteen days ago, I was planning a 700 person conference, my birthday, a bucket list of everything I wanted to do in Ann Arbor and drafting ideas for an essay proposal. Thirteen days ago I was victorious. Twelve days ago, I was defeated. A virus that felt distant deteriorated the 700 person conference that, after a full year of sleepless nights, perseverance and every ounce of dedication that I had, was just 10 days away. I wept. I could not find the words to tell the 54 person team I co-led that it was not happening. I could not tell them that a virus so distant, so far away, was stopping us from gathering; that we were going to let it win. I stared at the floor unable to make eye contact. I could not let them see me cry. I thought that was going to be the worst day.
10 days ago I went numb. I do not remember the days but classes got moved online (we had so much free time for activities!), we were told to stay at school (it was going to the best semester ever!) … then suddenly two bullet points on an email: graduation is canceled, go home. The virus no longer felt distant. It was here. That day was my worst day. A week later I am now in my childhood bed, crying. I am not returning to school – this is it. I am not returning to school, but people are not returning to work; small businesses are closing, people are losing their jobs, people are getting sick. There are people who are having worse days. But that’s okay. We are all going to have our “worst days”, no one is immune to this. We all need to grieve. I need to grieve and that’s okay. That is how we keep going.