Before March 12, I liked to think that I was pretty strong. I experienced loss during 9/11, as my cousin was in the second tower. I have been through 2 miscarriages, 3 traumatic childbirths, one child’s devastating illness, a CRA audit, a flood, 3 car accidents, plantar fasciitis, concussion, depression. I mean. Honestly. A PANDEMIC?????

My PTSD is through the roof right now. When my cousin died in 9/11, I remained glued to the television screen for days, trying to find answers, trying to find his face in the crowds of people running away from the collapsed buildings. Right now, I am glued to my computer. Trying to find solutions and answers to how we will get through this. I go through periods of extreme calm and feelings of normalcy, to extreme feelings of things NOT BEING OK. I sip my coffee and think, this is the last of my very expensive, overpriced oat milk, Add another thing to the list of things I have to make myself. “How is it going?”, friends ask me, and it depends on the moment. It depends on whether or not my two year old has decided to keep her food in her mouth or spit it out all over the carpet. To top it off, minor successes seem to only heighten the mania of it all, for they seem irrelevant to what life will actually look like for the next 6-12 months. I try to remind myself that folks are all feeling this, but I think a lot of those folks are still receiving a paycheque. Or will be in a few months.

As far as I can tell, none of what the federal or provincial government is offering will actually help our business. We don’t quality for loans because we have no revenue. We have no revenue because we have no customers. We can’t pay rent, we can’t pay our staff, but if we stop paying our staff we won’t qualify for the wage subsidy the government said is going to help small business.

My family? My darling children are taking the brunt of this. It is basically Lord of the Flies here, and today we are adding a foster cat to the mix because, WHY NOT? I need some purring medicine and the cat needs a home. It takes all that I have to make some kind of meal for them. It breaks my heart that I have to ration out the snacks that we have. I have to scroll though the grocery order and make sure I am not being frivolous. They are complaining of their tummy’s and hearts hurting. The anxiety is eating us alive.

I am so thankful for the fact that I started the anti-anxiety meds back in January, because I don’t even know how I would be functioning right now. I have a roof over my head. I have people that care. But I have had it up to here with this BS.

I should be sleeping, but I don’t know how right now.