There's a lot to fear in a pandemic. Some days the anticipatory grief is so overwhelming, to keep from crying I resort to naming off five physical objects in the room. This, ladies and gentlemen, is coping in the age of social distancing and Coronavirus.
And I'm not even the most heavily hit; I lived a relatively isolated life before all of this. I've always been an independent introvert, and I live up in the mountains of Asheville, North Carolina. In the middle of a hill, to be precise. My nature is a solitary one for the most part as I work from home and spend my free time writing fiction. I have a small group of amazing friends that I am eternally grateful for and have been able to share the emotional weight of isolation with all of them. It helps. If you're feeling lonely, reach out. A text, a good old fashioned phone call, or this newfangled technology of FaceTime and Zoom.
I see the extroverts around me beginning to sink beneath the weight of limited contact. More than that, there is the anticipatory grief of imagining that were we to get sick and need to be hospitalized; we would be absolutely alone. We would face death and fight for our lives isolated from everyone we love. It's a terrifying notion. One that threatens my daily sense of peace.
This is only the first month.
What will become of us? We know we will make it through this, but it will leave it's lasting mark. A generational scar like others that have come before; the World Wars and the Great Depression. More recently, 9/11. I share my birthday with 9/11, and every year I wake up on that day with a heaviness in my heart. I relive the trauma of learning the news of what happened all over again. Of thinking my dad, who worked in DC, was at risk, until I found out that he had a dentist appointment that day and didn't go to work. Happy Birthday, your family is alive. And think of how this changed and shaped us, turning the prospect of travel into something else entirely.
But Coronavirus is bigger than America's 9/11, and that's not to minimize the tragedy at all, but this is on a global scale like we've never seen. When I say "we" I mean Millenials. I was born in 1984, so this feels like a generation defining event. A shared trauma that will haunt us all. But how will this all leave it's mark? I'm interested in the possibilities, and I've been reading a lot of different articles with a range of hypotheses from dystopian tyrannical horror to a utopia in which we work a little less and live a little more with universal health care and a renewed appreciation in each other.
It makes it hard to decide what possibilities await. Will social distancing and sanitizing lead to a generation of hands-off germaphobes? Will this impact the choices people make when considering traveling? Will there forever be people who horde toilet paper? Agoraphobia must be on the rise; we're being told to stay in our homes. Neighbors have become possible enemies of our immune systems. And underneath all of this, our minds have to bear the weight of it.
Since my birth in the 1980s, I have made it through the era of school shootings and 9/11 and now Coronavirus. I share this story with millions of millennials. In that, I find a bit of solace. We share in our endurance. And like any hardship, and an oft debated stage of grief; we seek meaning in what we've endured. Maybe all of this will make us better leaders as we move into positions of leadership and power. Maybe it will just fade into the years as a traumatic event that is triggered whenever we enter crowded spaces, or move to shake someone's hand. It's hard to know, but I am fascinated with the prospect.
I've seen a lot of articles recently about how this era was meant for the slacker Generation X. I'm sure this is meant to be humorous, but it's what got me thinking about generational impact. I would love to hear what others have been thinking in the comments if anyone cares to share. And not just the Millennial generation, as that is just my lens of perspective; I would love to hear how Generation X feels about the label. I would definitely like to hear from Boomers about how this adds to their line of generational endurance.
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