The Lightbulb that Broke Me

I lost my s$%t this week. 

Four weeks without seeing anyone familiar, working long hours on covid-related stuff, and feeling boxed in by the increasingly loud (it seems) voices of my neighbours on all sides. My whole body wants to scream in the morning. But of course, as I am in said apartment, screaming is not an option. 

I think I briefly tipped over into the depression phase of the grief cycle of "How are you managing the pandemic?" And the trigger was a lightbulbI once had a long-distance friend send an update email that spoke at length about her issues with a lighting fixture, and I promised I would never do that to someone else, but here I go. 

She Works Hard for Her Lightbulb, so Hard for it Honey

It was getting pretty romantic in my bathroom. Two of the lights blew within a few days of each other and it was dark. So I started on my quest for a special-sized lightbulb, which generally is a pretty mindless pursuit. Go to the store, buy, come home, twist in. Get on with your life.

But this was not the case in these pandemic times. I went to the three local stores that carry lightbulbs, waiting 30-60 minutes in line at each one, on different days, only to find out they don't carry the special variety. So I went the amazing Amazon route (they were built for pandemics it would seem). So easy! The bulbs were delivered in a day. But they were the wrong ones. 

So back to Shopper's Drug Mart for another long line to return them through Canada Post. I don't know what it is about the line at this particular store. Maybe it's because a lot of people presume that actual sick people might be in line, but it's the worst. Everyone has on their masks, which is good. Prudent. But there are no smiles to be had in the eyes of the other line holders. Just suspicion, defensiveness and aversion. You had better not step one toe over that blue line or you'll have committed a heinous act worthy of much shame. 

Finally, I planned a trip to Canadian Tire, only to find that they are closed except for pick up, and the hours are limited to 9-6. Right smack dab in the middle of my work day, which doesn't include very many breaks these days. I did their advance order thingy anyhow, paid over the phone, and then had to find a way to get in to pick my order up without a car (they are not super close) in a very short window

As my work day got increasingly busy and behind and I realized I wasn't going to be able to pick them up without bailing on something else, I hit that tipping point. I mentally collapsed under how difficult it was to do something that was always so simple. I just shut down, falling into a very "woe is me" attitude, which I of course also felt guilty for. Frustration, guilt, depression, and stress, not a good mix. 

I decided to run to the store as transit/cabs are not recommended these days, and it made me feel even more dependent on my body and myself. And while I was running, it started to snow. That combined with the dark skies and my general mood sent me crying while running. Thankfully a song from "A Tribe Called Red" came on and that seemed to soothe my angst, as it matched the pounding pulse of my anxiety.  


Maybe Frustration is a Sign that Things Need to Change

Everything just seemed so hard. I felt scared to go outside, scared of people while outside, and so very alone. I guess this whole experience (the greater pandemic) has really magnified the feeling of being alone when you live alone. There's no one to help or to share in this with. You live without lightbulbs or you figure it out alone. 

And I find that people don't really understand the impact of loneliness (though there are so many studies on it these days). I mean, complain about having your kids driving you crazy and people seem to get that. It's obviously difficult. But I don't know how easy it is to grasp something abstract like loneliness. 

I do have a big social network. And I chose to live in a city that allows me to be quite connected and able to exist without a car, or a backyard, or roommates. I can TTC, I can go to a park, I can walk to a number of stores to get what I need, and I can get to my parents to visit on a train. But not right now. And that's a very scary feeling. The life I’ve chosen worked for me and now I feel like maybe I've made the wrong choice. And all of these feelings are making me question everything. 

I know this example is miniature, but piled on top of a lot of other things and was that last straw. I know of course that people are dealing with so much more. I mean I have a friend in a quarantine camp! But I really lost it this week. And I keep having to remind myself that it’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay.

Let's Start with Simple

It's also okay to let things go. To take this opportunity to simplify things. To let go of our versions of perfection. 

  • So the apartment won't always be clean.
  • The inbox not cleared to zero at the end of the day. 
  • The make-up not expertly applied. 
  • The to-do list won't ever get all of its' checkmarks. 
  • Maybe I won't get back to everyone in a timeframe that I think is respectful.
  • Maybe I won't make a bunch of hilarious TikToks during this pandemic or learn how to be an expert ukulele player. 

Maybe we can have a bad day and let that be okay. Be assured that tomorrow is another day and we can pick things up then. 

And maybe the lesson in all of this is to try to fit less into life and to enjoy the simple pleasures of having electricity. Having food in the fridge. Being able to use your body. Not having a cold. And for me, definitely being able to make a living from home. 



At the end of my run, I saw a big billboard for Schitt's Creek. This show has been a bit of a saviour for me during this whole thing. I wasn't really into it until I found myself stuck with a short attention span and needing something with levity mixed with meaning. And the characters have become like my family during this. It makes me smile and forget about everything. Thank goodness for art to make us feel connected and to entertain us when the dark stuff comes. 



Justin Kirkland wrote at the end of an Esquire article on the final season, that the best comedy is always juxtaposed with a touch of sadness.

It feels like we are living in a comedy of sorts right now. I mean if it wasn't so terrible it would be laughable.

Here's to finding a touch of comedy when times are tough and to doing what we can to help each other get through this next phase, which I'm sure is going to bring up a lot of "schtuff."


Comments

Diane said…
Ring the bells (ring the bells) that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything (there is a crack in everything)
That's how the light gets in
(Anthem, L.C.)
Jonathan Lin said…
What a great quote Diane. Got the tune in my headphones, never heard it before.


We're all in this together! If you still have problems with the light (or with any other light) - send me a photo! We can all figure it out together!