What I'm struggling with most in this time is finding my bearings. I'm home, and lucky to be, but this disease has a way of making the known unfamiliar. I think it has a lot to do with how time seems to be moving. Every day is much like the last so, in a sense, there are no real markers of momentum or progress. Everything moves very very slowly. But at the same time this sameness makes days and weeks and now months slip away before I have fully registered it. I don't know where my days are going or how to function when the rhythms that usually orient my work have fallen apart so easily. It seems impossible to locate myself or what I know in this time. There is no concrete future I can picture and this makes it hard to see any of what I'm doing as particularly real, or substantial.
I suppose this is all to say that I'm not thriving or adjusting or reflecting in this time. I'm just getting by and that's as much as I am able to ask of myself right now.