Stress is cumulative. That’s one of those adages that you hear so many times, but it doesn’t seem to penetrate until you hear it as you are living it. Now I hear it. Stress is cumulative. It feels like a toxin that builds up in your system until it reaches a level where it starts causing damage. And like so many other things, just stopping the accumulation of stress isn’t enough. Stress seems to have the half life of uranium-232, and like Covid, there is no pill you can take to make it go away. So not only do you have to stop accumulating stress, you have to then figure out a way to reduce stress, so it slowly leaches from your system, hopefully sending you back into the world of manageable levels. Unfortunately, this is not some sort of self-help blog where I regale you with the ten simple steps to a stress free life, this is our life in the pandemic. Stress is not always negotiable. I don’t get to choose to not worry about every interaction I have every time I leave the apartment. If I don’t want Covid, I don’t get a choice about wearing a mask. I don’t get to go and meet a friend for dinner at a restaurant. We haven’t gone to a restaurant since March. Hell, we haven’t hugged someone outside our family since March, and we are in the hugging capital of the world. I have probably averaged one real face to face conversation a week with someone not living with me in that time. That’s ugly.
I think that we had convinced ourselves that we were rejuvenated after our June and July holidays, but I think we simply were doing enough positive things that they offset all the negatives and our stress level plateaued. I now understand just how precarious that balance was because school has been that extra layer of stress that we weren’t ready for. And it wasn’t that teensy little straw that broke the camel’s back. It was the Wile E. Coyote anvil dropping from the sky. Today, tonight, too much is too hard. There is no joy in the Mudville of distance learning. It is all the stress, and more, of teaching, with ten percent of the joy. It turns out, I really do like children. What I wouldn’t give right now to solve a meaningless argument over the proper procedure for sharing the one pink ruler at the table. I would smile to again see a five year old look me in the eye as I give them directions, and then completely ignore everything I said. I look so forward to reteaching the short vowel sounds so many times to that one student that I question my sanity, because at least I would get to see more than a flat expression on Zoom.
So, if it is not abundantly clear, today, things are not all rainbows and unicorns. It is Thursday of Week 5 of this year, and Month 5 overall, of distance learning and I might just be a little tired. But this is our life tonight, in this moment, and that’s the story these words are meant to portray. Tomorrow will be better. We will be ok. We have a three day weekend ahead of us and an extra day will make all the difference right now. If this makes you feel bad, that was not my intention. This is simply our story of today. If you want to help, send my wife a text or email telling her you are thinking of her, and don’t be upset when she doesn’t reply. If your children know my children, they would appreciate the same. As for me, I’m ok, I just wrote it all out and won’t respond to texts anyways because I’ll be asleep on the couch.
As always, be safe, be happy, be well,
Adam
Adam,
ReplyDeletethank you for your very honest and direct ownership of your feelings and general emotional state. The isolation necessary to put the kabosh on corona V is such a heavy price to pay for most people, let alone for people who have chosen to work with others (teachers for sure). Meanwhile the stress of not having healthy human interaction continues to build. You describe that very well. I hold you and Sara in my heart and trust you will find the resilience necessary to meet the challenges ahead.
At the same time, your description of the stress and its affects reminds me of the cumulative stress faced by people living in poverty (the instability, the uncertainty ...). And I'm imagining how that builds up over time, leaving lots of pain, and suffering, and chaos. Then, in this time of racial reckoning, 'cumulative' takes on a whole new dimension if we reflect on the stress our African American brothers and sisters have been carrying for centuries. None of this takes away from your personal experience of stress. It reminds us that stress is very acute in this particular time.
On my end, I have this image of my 93 year old mother, who has been outside maybe three or four times since March and who received her first visitors last week. She looks remarkably well and seems quite sharp. That is due in no small part to Skype sessions five days a week. She has seen more of her children (and we of each other) than at any time in the past thirty years or so. I long for the day when I can visit and hold her in my arms. So, I hold this in my heart along with the anguish I feel over a socially distanced year for teachers and students. Thanks for keeping it real.
Hi Robert,
DeleteWhat you are saying is incredibly accurate. Our family has the luxury of knowing that we will be having an up to match or exceed our down. We know that things will get better for us, and in reality, things have never actually been that bad. This is.a relatively stressful moment in our lives, and this entry in our blog represents that, but for anyone who has read our other entries, we are still living a charmed life. I hope that this shared experience will not be forgotten as our world eventually transitions back to “normal”, because what is normal for so many marginalized people is not ok. Maybe more people will now have empathy for others having had to experience a glimpse of what it is like to live in fear and isolation.
And I agree, Skype and Zoom have shortened the distance for so many people, and I am glad it has been working for your mother.
Best, Adam
I understand.
ReplyDeleteAdam, We are thinking of all of you and miss you- your honest story of your life is sad. We have this vision of the Swedeland- Carter family off on a hike, paddling a river or biking in a beautiful park. You post tonight is a dose of reality for me. Its not all roses in Brazilia. I say this knowing that your collective strength of soul as a family will get you through the difficult times to the better days ahead. We think of you Sara and the girls every day and can't wait to take another trip to Oregon to see you guys do the crazy things you do. Those dreams of better times on the future get us through the diffucult times we now experience.You are loved, Dad
ReplyDeleteThanks Dad. We are still feeling very fortunate compared to so many folks right now, but yes, it has been a challenging time for sure. Thanks for the love! We can’t wait to see you all again also.
DeleteAdam
We think of your sweet family so very often and are grateful that, like us, you can get out and bathe in nature. The note from Dad brought a few tears. Zoom school sounds like a difficult experience for teachers, kids and parents. I am so sad for all. I am sure you are loving and supporting each other as best you can. I don't have a way to contact Sarah. Can you message me or post info. I'd love to send some love.
ReplyDelete