The practice quarantine has ended. And let me tell you, for such a short period of time, it was quite a ride.
Thankfully, my symptoms never worsened. I felt waves of fatigue, minor nausea, what felt like the onset of a minor fever, but my temperature continued to read as normal and with rest I quickly regained my energy. When I felt ill I was happy to be tucked away in my quiet space to sleep and rest. But when my energy returned I quickly became restless and lonely, which led to feelings of confinement, resentment towards Trevor for suggesting the quarantine, and desperation for human touch.
But then I remembered that this was just practice, I still had freedom of choice, I could leave my room at any time without consequence. I consulted with a nurse over the phone and she said since I didn’t have a fever or cough there wasn’t need for extra precaution. So we ended the practice quarantine on Monday morning.
In reviewing the weekend Trevor and I recognized that on a practical level quarantine was possible. We found ways of managing the spaces in our house to avoid contact with each other successfully. However, on an emotional level, it was very difficult for me, even more difficult than I expected it to be. We wonder how it might be different if he were the one to get sick. I know he would be much more adamant about separation if that were the case, and I wouldn’t have the same concerns about confinement because I would be the one with free rein of the house.
When it comes down to it, in either situation, the biggest factor is lack of human touch. It qualifies as a basic necessity. I have a new level of empathy for people experiencing actual quarantine, and for people who are single or separated from their families during social isolation. It is difficult. And taxing. And a lot of work to try to keep yourself sane and talk yourself down from the extreme emotions.
I have a tendency to feel ashamed of myself when my emotions speak louder than reason. Initially when I looked back at the weekend I felt that shame return, thinking, “Of course I wasn’t really alone or imprisoned, how could I let myself feel that way?” But now as I review the way I responded to those emotions I am proud of myself. For recognizing the way I felt, acknowledging it as a natural reaction, taking the time to process and write about it, claiming the truth of my situation and also claiming my power to make positive choices.
We are all doing some hard work right now, and a lot of it is internal. Be proud of yourselves. Be loving to yourselves. Feel whatever you need to feel and don’t be ashamed of those feelings.
Angie Gustafson 