Doldrums
There's a word from my childhood; The Doldrums. Where the ocean's currents are aimless or non-existant. If the wind dies as well, ships ain't goin' nowhere. This is what it feels like right now. The doldrums. The excitement of the first few weeks of this lockdown has died down. We are firmly in the grip of the Coronavirus and it's side effects, which are isolation, quaranteen, physical separation, fear.
These are becoming the norm, although it's a norm that carries a strong undercurrent of fear. We have not quite reached the peak of infection, here in the US or the World in general For the world it's a kind of rolling peak, first here then there, then on to the next hotspot but overall growing. Here in the US we are just getting to that point where the numbers are becomeing horribly real. and we are most of us on pause, waiting with 'bated breath, so to speak.
In movie terms I'm thinking of the part of the movie where the heros are hiding from the monster which is just outside, but we don't know exactly where. And there are shrieks and groaning metal and then deathly silence. We have not even begun to think of a way to vanquish this monster, though people are working feverishly behind the scenes trying to come up with the solution. We know they will, but will it be in time to save our hapless heros? Namely me? Will this be a Spielberg movie or one of Wes Craven's never ending sequels?
When I am in exceedingly uncomfortable situations. Meaning physically uncomfortable. Like on an airplane for a 20 something hour flight and being stuck in the middle seat between two large gentlemen who insist on putting their under seat luggage in the footwell while stretching their legs under the seats in front, and there isn't really enough room to move properly, these type of situations cause a shutdown. I suffer from claustrophobia in these situations, but I need to endure them, and I do that by shutting down part of my consciousness. In order to stay sane in these situations I narrow my focus and normalize the situation. As if it's always been and always will be. Thus, the situation becomes normal, something I must put up with and in a way it becomes my life. This is how I keep from clawing my way out the seat and running up and down the aisle looking for an exit.
This is how I endure.
But I always find, near the end of such an experience, that I almost resent the fact that it is ending. I find it hard to believe. Perhaps this is my psyche protecting my claustrophobic self from the rising sense of panic and hope.
When this is over, will I have felt this way toward the end?
These are becoming the norm, although it's a norm that carries a strong undercurrent of fear. We have not quite reached the peak of infection, here in the US or the World in general For the world it's a kind of rolling peak, first here then there, then on to the next hotspot but overall growing. Here in the US we are just getting to that point where the numbers are becomeing horribly real. and we are most of us on pause, waiting with 'bated breath, so to speak.
In movie terms I'm thinking of the part of the movie where the heros are hiding from the monster which is just outside, but we don't know exactly where. And there are shrieks and groaning metal and then deathly silence. We have not even begun to think of a way to vanquish this monster, though people are working feverishly behind the scenes trying to come up with the solution. We know they will, but will it be in time to save our hapless heros? Namely me? Will this be a Spielberg movie or one of Wes Craven's never ending sequels?
When I am in exceedingly uncomfortable situations. Meaning physically uncomfortable. Like on an airplane for a 20 something hour flight and being stuck in the middle seat between two large gentlemen who insist on putting their under seat luggage in the footwell while stretching their legs under the seats in front, and there isn't really enough room to move properly, these type of situations cause a shutdown. I suffer from claustrophobia in these situations, but I need to endure them, and I do that by shutting down part of my consciousness. In order to stay sane in these situations I narrow my focus and normalize the situation. As if it's always been and always will be. Thus, the situation becomes normal, something I must put up with and in a way it becomes my life. This is how I keep from clawing my way out the seat and running up and down the aisle looking for an exit.
This is how I endure.
But I always find, near the end of such an experience, that I almost resent the fact that it is ending. I find it hard to believe. Perhaps this is my psyche protecting my claustrophobic self from the rising sense of panic and hope.
When this is over, will I have felt this way toward the end?
Comments
Post a Comment