I Thought I Could Quarantine Forever if I Had To
I’ve always had hermetic tendencies, so when it dawned on us all collectively last year that we were going to have to stay home for a while, I wasn’t too bummed about it. I mean, I was super bummed about all of the death, economic devastation, corporate looting, and potential to pass a deadly disease onto someone without knowing it, but the staying home and not making plans part? Super thrilled. Ecstatic, even.
I cleared my calendar of all the Cool and Rad and Artistic Things I was maybe going to do for the next year and I felt nothing but relief.
Not only that, but being forced to spend so much time with my partner was not the relationship cold war it became for some people, so I felt as if my quota for human contact was filled. I haven’t been particularly stir-crazy over the past year. Yeah, there are things that I missed doing, but I wasn’t minding an extra boost in alone time. I like being alone with myself. I’m interesting in my own brain.
A strange thing happened on the way to Bakersfield
Last week, I, like many other Angelinos, learned about the vast amounts of extra vaccines at the mass vaccination site in CSU Bakersfield (thank you, conspiracy-poisoned locals). Wednesdays are my odd day off in the middle of the week, so I figured why not, I’ll take the scenic road trip up to Bakersfield and get the poke in my arm.
SCENIC
There was a part of me that said: “You’ll become eligible anywhere on the fifteenth, so like… just wait, man. You can quarantine forever.”
I nearly listened to that part of me. But I, knowing myself, sabotaged my self-sabotage by telling my mother I was going to make the drive and at twenty-seven I still would have massive guilt about letting her down. I set my alarm for six in the morning and schlepped up to Bakersfield for the opening time at eight.
A funny thing happened during my drive.
I wasn’t feeling tired or annoyed that I was having to make such a trek. In fact, I realized I was full of energy and feeling something akin to excitement.
I was really looking forward to getting vaccinated.
I had a moment of clarity, driving alongside those endless beige fields. I didn’t know how badly I wanted to be vaccinated until the imminence of its arrival was upon me.
The excitement wasn’t coming from losing myself in fantasies of all the things I was going to do once fully vaccinated. The feeling wasn’t so specific.
It was a notion that things were finally progressing.
Stagnant water
I’ve been keeping busy during COVID with all my Projects™. But just because I’m keeping busy doesn’t mean I’m moving forward. Or at least, doesn’t mean I feel like I’m moving forward in my life.
I wasn’t doing a lot before the pandemic, but I was making an effort to go to local theatre and see folks in bars and cafes.
With virtual-only events, I just stopped going to anything. I know a lot of people have bent over backward to adapt to a virtual format, but I’m sorry to everyone — especially all my friends, acquaintances, and colleagues — who’ve put in so much effort to keep their art alive: I haven’t gone to a damn thing. I’ve read narration for a virtual table read, I have a book club I’m a part of, I occasionally play Jackbox over Discord, but other than that? Nothing at all. After all, my quota for human contact was already filled.
I have hermetic tendencies. I’ve occasionally been able to get over myself and reach out to people, but for the most part, my contact has been limited to a handful of folks. There’s a lot of rad artists in the LA theatre scene who I vibe with. But that’s the thing — our relationships are built around being in-person for theatre. Without that, it’s been easy for me to let those connections drop. Quota filled, no need to do anything more.
I have less motivation to do projects even though I have more time to myself than I have in years. I work, but nothing ever seems to be complete. I occasionally do things to break the monotony, go for drives and walks — I even went on a solo camping trip once.
I’ve been living in stagnant water. As I sit here in the waiting period before I can get my second Pfizer shot, I can’t help but feel as though the stagnant water has been injected with new life. Like the dolphins in the LA river at the start of lockdown: nature is healing. In this case, “nature” is ~mY SoUL~
Will things change significantly once I’m fully vaccinated? Probably not. I still don’t know when I’m going to feel comfortable going to bars with friends, or to concerts or plays, but the fact that there is something tangible I’ve done to bring me one step closer to freedom again is a euphoric sensation.
Maybe I’m not as much of a hermit as I think I am. I think that, perhaps, the excitement I was unconsciously feeling on that drive up to Bakersfield was a cry from deep in my psyche, a cry to live.
I shut myself up, I write, I play video games, I go to work, I watch YouTube, I run, I meditate, I pet the cats. There’s something I’m missing, some sort of freedom or adventure I want to be having, but don’t let myself have because I am a man of routines and patterns.
I need this. I didn’t know I needed this. I thought I could seal myself away forever and be fine, but I can’t.
I haven’t a clue of what adventures I even want to go on. All I have is this vague, undirected excitement bubbling out of my stomach like the beginnings of a lava flow.