The Legacy of COVID-19

Warning: the next few paragraphs contain spoilers about The Walking Dead season 10, episode 19 and the book, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

Guest starring in last night's episode of The Walking Dead, Robert Patrick played a character betrayed by his brother in the zombie apocalypse, resulting in a choice: him or me. As the victor, he chained his brother up and forced his brother's wife and child into a situation - not only where neither of them would survive, but would have to choose whether to kill themself or the other. He then captures two of the story's main characters, forcing them into a similar situation. His life has been consumed by a need to continually prove to himself that people are inherently evil, in order to justify his distateful choices about survival.

Bleak, I know. 

The same day, I had finished the prequel to The Hunger Games trilogy, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins. Fans of the series will likely know that this is the tale of a young Coriolanus Snow, who eventually grows up to become evil President Snow. His story is not as tragic as one might think: in fact, it's more about the terrible decisions one is forced to make in order to survive. Much like Robert Patrick's character in The Walking Dead, at a push, he will choose himself - over a stranger, over a friend, even over a person he cares about deeply.  

Both of these stories provided some great fodder for philosophical discussion yesterday for me and hubs about survival. And it got me thinking about how people are changed by pressure, and time, and tough decisions.  

COVID has tainted every aspect of daily life, from the way we interact with people and do our jobs, to how we send our kids to school or daycare; whether we choose to eat in a restaurant or have food delivered, to standing apart or with plexiglass between us when we go to a store. We have been forced to make decisions, not only for ourselves, but for others. Some may be small, like choosing to bring/wear a mask each time we step outside our door, or slightly larger, like whether to celebrate the holidays in the physical presence of others. 

At first, the introduction of public health measures was tolerable, even welcomed. Then a few more things were asked of us: keep socially distanced, stay home if possible. Then, they escalated: strict restrictions on visiting family in hospitals or long-term care, mandatory isolation and quarantine, prohibitively expensive and restrictive measures on travel. Of course, these things are and remain necessary. 

But after a whole year of this, I can't help but wonder how these things will change a person. I, personally, feel altered - maybe permanently.  

I have felt - for some time now, and perhaps not dissimilarly to others - that life is not getting better. We've adapted and learned to live with how things are, but mainly because there is no other choice. 

But do we accept things as they are now? I know I sure haven't. 

For many months, I have been waiting for something to change. Anything. Of course, this now appears pointless; what is there to change? This is life now, isn't it? Wearing masks, avoiding each other, seeing faces only on a computer screen, hands perpetually drenched in hand sanitizer. 

Life is dull, joyless. Coping is futile. I get enough sleep, I eat well (enough), I hydrate, I limit my alcohol intake. I wake up earlier and earlier, to write/work out/go for walks. I try and stay social, even though I've come to loathe computer screens for social interaction.  

And... for what? To survive? To just exist, each day? 

The longer this situation goes on, the less I am convinced there is an end to it. And much like Robert Patrick in The Walking Dead or young Coriolanus Snow in their fight for survival, I feel like we will be changed by this experience; perhaps we already are. Will we be more caring, understanding, willing to help others? 

Or... not? 

I feel like I've lost some of my humanity in all of this. Chalk it up to social distancing, or witnessing how awful people can be to one another. Are there positives? Sure. Of course there are. But it's hard to focus on them over the din of self-serving, ungrateful, in-it-for-themselves prattle on the news and social media.

I want to be clear that I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm not asking for help. I'm not even asking for anyone to say, "Sorry about how dead your fish are." I'm just... making observations.

Namely that, it's been a whole year of living through a pandemic, with no certainty about an end in sight. And that, when it comes to our survival, the choices we make under pressure will change us - perhaps for good, but not for the better.