Pandemic Musings of an Immunocompromised Kitten

The last 24 hours were rough.

Details aren't super important because the specifics really aren't the thing I'm processing but this particular situation brought to the surface all the things I have been suppressing for the last two years (since the pandemic started).

Contrary to what some might think - and a lot of people in my opinion hide behind - it's not fear.

I'm not afraid of this.

What I am afraid of and truthfully furious at, and utterly exhausted by, is realizing that every single day society as a whole is choosing to live in a way that devalues my life.

I'm afraid of people.

I'm afraid, of you.

Every single day, I feel like people don't care.

I'm shown through their actions (whether intended or not) that they do not care.

I'm not safe (not because of COVID though yes, I believe it is real) because other people are too afraid to pause to take precautions that keep me and others like me safe.

I cannot trust people.

Every time I have to pry for someone to give me the whole truth, for them to affirm to me that they are taking the precautions, or for them to disclose how many people they've been in contact with, or what precautions they took when seeing those people, like keeping distanced or wearing a mask, is a reminder that others are not having these conversations.

It's a reminder that they feel okay leaving these things implicit.

It means if they're not having these conversations with others, then I cannot safely consent to interacting with them because I cannot know the risk I am assuming in doing so.

Every time someone thinks "It's okay, I'll be fine", what they are omitting is the very real thought of what that means for the next person they come in contact with.

And it means I - and others like me - are being excluded from community, connection, and support: The thing that we all deserve equitable access to always and especially now.

I'm exhausted from living two years - and I know this is a small fraction of what other marginalized persons who are targeted by other systems of oppression experience in their lifetimes - waking up and feeling like nowhere and no person is safe.

I'm writing this because honestly, with the last two years as much as I have absolutely no energy to keep educating and sharing how this impacts me and others like me, if I don't, I'll lose hope.

And if I lose hope, I don't know what will happen.

I'm grateful that I do have a circle of friends who always discusses risk factors in explicit detail.

To have people who will tell me up front if they have been in a higher risk situation and will make sure we don't see each other for two weeks (and who also will not put themselves into those situations if they cannot isolate/work from home etc. for two weeks afterward).

Right now I'm grateful that I can cry because that means I am starting to process at least some of this trauma, and to feel through the pain and grief my body is holding onto.

I also feel so incredibly alone.

So, my ask of anyone who is willing to listen is that you start to normalize these conversations if you haven't already.

If you're of good health and missing connection, think of how you can gain access in a way that doesn't prevent someone like me (immunocompromised) from gaining access to it the next day.

Your risk is not just yours. We all need a break but if your break means you're bringing higher risk to others (and especially when they can't give informed consent and take precautions afterward etc.) . . . that is not okay. Period.

And if you say people can trust you, withhold nothing. This year has shown a lot of us that we are not cared for and cannot trust anyone so you have to prove that you are trustworthy. It is not freely given because right now if it is, that quite literally can mean death. Earn it.

It's not that hard and you might help someone up off the floor in giving them the information so that they can exercise full autonomy over their own being.

I was trying to figure out this feeling, of what my body was experiencing in response to feeling like those I thought I could trust were withholding information . . . The thing that came to mind is that it feels like being held by my abuser. I am in freeze mode and ready to move into flight right away. And I have, because people haven't given me the information to feel safe up front and when I find that out, I cannot be safe with those people.

But then, I'm alone again, with no one to hold me.

This is how I have been feeling the entire last two years.

I'm depleted.

Tonight, I felt myself starting to dissociate. So, I focused on one stimulus at a time and just experienced that. I had a bath, I read a book, I was on my phone (but JUST on my phone) and then watched TV but JUST watched TV (no phone). That is the best I could do.