The Pandemic Saved My Life
Vaccinated Freedom From The Hive Mind
Something strange happened when the world went dark — something I never expected.
Amid vaccines, lockdowns, and tragic deaths, I discovered a newfound happiness within myself, content with solitude and brimming with hope.
March 2020 marked Turkey’s full lockdown. As a nation, we had spent the preceding two months wondering about our luck—where were the cases?
Where was the death toll?
Just before our beloved school’s winter break, my department head embraced me, bidding a fond farewell as teachers scattered for a two-week hiatus. I remember jesting
“We might not see each other for another year!”
We laughed, not considering it a possibility.
Well, lockdown came and went, but something in me changed, and I never fully returned.
Context
I began my tenure at the fancy school in 2015. As a young teacher, I found the idea of securing a position at a prestigious Turkish institution amusing, given my years as a traveler.
Turkey was meant to be another stop on my journey. Arriving in Anatolia in 2013, amidst the Gezi Park events and political turbulence, I kept a low profile, savoring the experiences and flavors of Asia Minor.
But then, the job at the fancy school landed in my lap.
To my amazement, I excelled. I became the go-to person for communication skills—not the best, mind you, but I had a knack for connecting with people, and they felt it. I owe much of this to my time at the fancy school, strolling its halls in a suit, shaking hands with parents, and bringing smiles to the faces of children.
Those initial years before the pandemic were potent and deep.
Even amid ISIS terror and a tragic military coup, I felt secure and valued. A testament to the nation and its people.
Did March 2020 mark a turning point?
I knew my mind had changed after Ireland’s 2008 crash, though I didn’t realize it until later. It certainly morphed and stretched me tragically from adolescence to adulthood.
Perhaps those lonely, destitute nights of fear and hunger in Reunion played a role, or were they mere moments adding to the tapestry of my life?
Was this perpetual search and yearning always my fate, irrespective of life’s blessings?
The Pandemic
March 2020 proved to be a month of awakening. In my small one-bedroom apartment near the mountain and my favorite café, I embarked on self-discovery, although, at the time, I was just bored. I challenged myself to something I hadn’t done in years—the years spent in fancy schools, wearing suits.
I picked up a guitar, learned how to play the bloody thing, and reorganized my days around hiking, online work, cooking, and Zoom calls with friends.
The pandemic prompted me to communicate more than ever before. I even got in shape, and my anxiety receded. My God, I even quit smoking! The panic attacks that haunted me for years vanished. Physically, I was at my best during those pandemic years. I reveled in the solitude of the one available gym, feeling fresh and looking good even as the death toll mounted on every news screen across the country.
Not even the lifelong guilt that trailed me managed to dampen my enjoyment.
Vaccinated Freedom
After receiving the jabs, I embarked on travels across Turkey and Europe. By 2021, vaccination had opened doors. Jabbed and armed with the necessary paperwork, I had my share of fun and made memories while working on my laptop. A pivotal shift occurred—my laptop defined my job’s location, liberating me from the confines of a building and the constraints of a set schedule.
Can you believe it? I found freedom in the midst of a global lockdown. I became myself.
Or at least a version of myself that I could enjoy.
However, as they say, all good things come to an end. The pandemic eventually subsided, and I faced the prospect of returning to the fancy school.
I anticipated this eagerly, viewing the pandemic as a peculiar, tragic blip in our history.
Excitement surged, and I strutted back to work in my new slim suit, brimming with confidence.
Amid the anticipation of a return to normalcy, a subtle voice whispered from within me: 'You can’t go back to that, Peter.’
I shrugged it off.
The halls of the fancy, upscale school reverberated with the laughter of joyful children reuniting after the lockdown. It felt magical and uplifting. Despite the calm and good times experienced during the pandemic, my heart went out to the kids. Witnessing their happiness upon reuniting with friends made my return easier.
However, a disconcerting notion took root—a feeling of being trapped—an alarming and odd thought in a world opening up and giving back freedoms.
I struggled to comprehend my unease. The pains returned, anxiety resurged, and panic attacks intruded during moments of supposed happiness.
Pandemic Lite
Throughout 2021 and 2022, I tried everything to regain control. Just as I thought I had succeeded, fear would strike me down.
It became whack-a-mole.
The cinema, once a cherished haven, became a torment—too many people, too few exits.
Even flying, a skill I had mastered, turned into an ordeal, driven by irrational fear at 30,000 feet.
What for?
An inexplicable torment.
Doubt began to creep in. I never flinched when I was broke and homeless on Reunion Island or during a military coup. Even earthquakes couldn’t shake me.
I pondered whether I needed chaos or oddity to feel grounded.
The normal things everyone found so pleasant made me want to rip my heart out.
I just wanted to sit on a surf board surrounded by great whites.
I needed to shake things up for myself and not have it done for me by some external phantom of fate.
So,
I walked away from the job—a decision that brought me no joy.
It was gutwrenching to realize that the only reason I was sad was because I was happy to go.
A depressing way to end eight years
It was time to move on.
But it didn’t fix the internal turmoil.
Whatever switch got flipped, I can’t flip it back.
I resolved to seek help, promising myself that I would.
‘Was this turmoil caused by external factors, or had it always existed, lurking until happiness beckoned?’
The journey continues.
Did external circumstances trigger this struggle, or was it always dormant, awaiting the right moment to disrupt contentment?
I have been Peter Murphy and you have just read my stuff