Quarantine Diaries Day 6: Guilt & the only thing that helps

Every morning and every evening, we send my dad a text as a family. My mom starts the thread and expresses more true emotions than I’ve heard from her before. My brother is usually next and I’m last. Our messages are filled with positivity and love, telling him how much we need him. I always try to include that he’s doing such a good job. 

I’m not sure if he can read them or if the nurses are reading them to him, but the doctor says that it’s a good idea. 

Maybe he’s just saying that for us. Maybe my dad really can hear and needs to hear them. 

Either way, I need them. They give me something to look forward to every morning and every night. 

Today, I woke up feeling guilty. 

I don’t want to talk about my dad with other people and I definitely don’t want them talking about him to each other. However, at a virtual birthday party yesterday (that’s how life is these days), the conversation shifted into what everyone’s parents are doing. And how they were not being nearly as safe as they should be. 

From heading outside regularly and meeting friends to thinking that buying a ventilator is all that they needed to do, there was some concerning talk. I felt like I had to put an end to it. I also felt like I had a way to make their parents realize that none of this is a joke.

So I spoke up. I was shaking as I talked about it, but I explained that my dad is currently in the ICU. That this is so much worse than they think it is. That this is absolutely something that they need to react to now, not later. 

However, I remain a private person. I know that seems counterintuitive as I continue to blog about the situation, but it’s true. We are a private family. We don’t like to talk about things. It’s not as helpful for us as letting us deal with things in our own way, at our own pace, without any outside perspectives. 

So it’s hard for me to imagine that my dad could be the subject of conversation outside of our family. 

However, I also truly believe that knowing his situation will help give people a fucking wake-up call. That they will start taking protocol seriously. That they will realize that they have no idea what’s in store if they do contract the virus and even if their symptoms are mild, that they can send someone else to the hospital in the worst pain and fear that they’ve ever been in. 

I’ve also realized how removed I was when friends were going through similar situations in the past. 

Of course, I knew that what they were going through was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. That it was harder than anything I could even imagine. Which is why I don’t think I reached out or brought it up more than once. What did I have to say that would do anything to make their situation better? Nothing. 

But still, as I navigate this situation myself, I wish I had tried harder to make it known that I was there for them. 

I didn’t understand at the time how confusing all of the emotions are—wanting to be alone. Wanting to forget about it. Wanting to be with people. Wanting to think about it. Not knowing what you want. Wanting everything. Wishing that you could just wake up because there is no way this is real. Realizing every morning that it is. 

There’s no easy way to get through this. There’s no easy way to understand how you need to process this. The best remedy that I’ve found so far is seeking out opportunities to help other people. When I’m focused on doing something for someone else, even if it’s just as simple as saying “thank you” to them or checking in on them, I start to feel better myself. 

So please let me know how I can help you through this time. I am here for anyone who needs me.