It’s Been 75 Days.

Why quarantine may never end.

We are sailing into an unknown future, and that is hard to accept. We have all gone through the similar five stages of grief, and now headed on to months of mindless sailing. Soon we see land, but we have to be wary of it. It may be dangerous. If we aren’t careful, we will have to turn back and keep sailing for longer. We take a deep breath and test the waters.

We hear these words and phrases all the time “I can’t wait to do x, y, and z when quarantine ends”, or “next month I can’t wait to do… or travel..”. We hear the hot button language that the politicians proudly use as if they invented the terms “new normal”. We hear it all. We believe that this is temporary and this will end. States are slowly opening up, deciding that enough is enough and that the economy is at stake.

What if, though, quarantine doesn’t end?

What if our lives will now have a degree of fear, a degree of protection that clothes us. What if it is more than our masks that cover our faces, but the mentality that will be masked? I recently saw online that people were watching a movie and were physically uncomfortable with the lack of “social distancing” taking place. We have readjusted our minds to our new physical reality, so much so that our entire perspectives have changed. Our worries have changed. Our prayers have changed. Our hopes have changed.

What if this is life now?

What if we have to reimagine every facet of our lives, and still find worries, prayers, hopes, and dreams? We have to accept our new boundaries, respect them, but move forward at the same time. It’s a large task, for anyone.

Quarantine began for me two weeks before my study abroad to Panama, midway through my spring break in my first year at college. I just had a taste of what adult life was like, living on my own in the comfort of the dorms. I experienced adult responsibilities. I no longer was bound to the curfews and culture that my parents created around me. For the first time, I felt freedom into my growing self. I hit lows farther lower than I had ever felt. I felt highs. I felt myself growing up and moving on into the woman I wanted to become. Spring promised growth for me, a chance to continue building the college foundation that I had finally started on.

And now I am back in my bedroom I moved into right before I began high school, reverting into my old self. I am forced to break through them. I watch Netflix. I attend zoom classes then graduate with a higher GPA than I probably would have had in normal college. I reach out to local artists and see if I can help out. I drive around Kentucky just come home. I reconnect with my family in a new way, but long for my independence and space to grow. I feel grateful and comfortable and adjusted, but the fire within me is yearning for my busy schedule once again. Perhaps that is human.

I gave myself quiet. I gave myself boredom, the ultimate cure for creativity. I began an account on Medium and vowed to appreciate any organic growth and to write clearly. I am now grounded. This gives me a purpose.

We will all have a different story of ourselves going through this. We will become many different versions of ourselves and be forced to watch each one of these versions grow out of each other. We are forced to be ourselves, and this can be scary. We are forced to confront our reflection and determine if this is the right path for us.

We must sail on.