I was doing online college courses during the pandemic. My boyfriend and I were already homebodies and had all our fun online, and did WFH contract work, too. For us, it was like nothing had changed. We didn’t get the big collective “break” from work that many others did.
Now I’m working outside the home (waitress) and I’ve caught myself thinking this morning “damn, kinda wish there would be another pandemic, one I can actually enjoy”
I was shocked at that thought. People literally died. “Essential workers” suffered more than ever. Some have lasting health complications. Many committed suicide under lockdown. The economy is in shambles and people risk(ed) losing their shelter because jobs were on hold but payments weren’t always. There was so much terrible shit that happened, yet part of me would start it all again if I had the choice because I’m so fucking burnt out.
We’re at the point in society where the only promise of a chance to catch our breath or make time for ourselves is a global health threat requiring everyone to separate. Even then, WFH got pretty refined and if there were another lockdown, many places would still keep things running as usual.
There is no escape.
I’m so fucking tired. Therapy isn’t helping, I even cut my hours to <40/wk and I’m still unable to get my ass out of bed and ready for work in the morning because wearing a fake ass smile for 8-10 hours a day and being an emotional punching bag when someone’s food isn’t perfect is, surprise surprise, more than I can handle.
And now I’m having thoughts like this?
Sometimes I feel like death is my only option to make the stress finally go away.