Another in my series of the Corona Files
Now I know what it feels like to be depressed. It’s like swimming in syrup, unable to start or finish a task—let alone a to-do list. It’s the grief pressing down, making my arms, legs, hands, feet heavy. I can’t concentrate; I push the button to make coffee twice and come back to see rivers of it flooding the counter. I go into the kitchen for something and stand there. Not that this hasn’t happened before. I just called it low energy or an off-day. And, maybe it lasted a day or two, but not 10 days going on till . . . .
we don’t know when. Until the lockdown is lifted.