I have been keeping a journal for decades. Historically, I haven’t written in them each and every day. Sometimes I’ve gone a month or more without journaling. But the shelf of black, lined Moleskin books stands as a testimony to how important these occasional scribblings have been. I never go back and read what I had written before. But sometimes I do stare off into space in their direction knowing that years of angst, joys, frustrations and annoyances are there waiting for me to rediscover.

Once I was catapulted back from SE Asia to my home in the States by the threat of a frightening new global virus, I decided that I would keep a daily journal about the pandemic and how it affected my life. I don’t know what I expected at the time, but it was probably something like a couple of month’s worth of entries. This week, I passed day 100 – a weird sort of milestone. So for the first time ever, I decided to look back and see where I was and where I have gotten to. It’s not a particularly pretty or encouraging picture. But the range of information and reactions is fascinating (at least to me). Here is a sampling.

• Day 1 March 19: An arbitrary start, but everything about this pandemic feels arbitrary. Every day brings some new dire information and press conference that I can’t bring myself to watch…of course, I’m afraid for my health and that of those I love. But I find I’m even more afraid for the future. Will everything just go back to normal, or will everything change forever? All we have now is uncertainty, and every day it all changes.
• Day 2 March 20: I’m having conversations with friends in the UK, Cambodia, throughout the US, everywhere. Everyone is staying indoors and waiting it out. I’m happy just to stay home, play games, watch videos. Maybe as the weeks (months?) go by I’ll become more productive. But there seems little point to pushing anything now.
• Day 5 March 24: I have a feeling in my throat like there’s a lump there, like I’m about to cry. It annoys me, but otherwise, no symptoms. No illness. [A friend] sent me an email from her doctor saying that everyone in her practice who has contracted CoVid-19 has recovered comfortably. It reminded me that the virus is not a death sentence. Even if one of us gets it, it doesn’t have to be terrible. So why am I more afraid of getting this than anything else, like cancer?
• Day 8 March 27: A glorious, early Spring day. I’m feeling fine and my anxiety level is down. When there is so much beautiful sunshine outside, it’s hard to believe there’s a problem out there.
• Day 13 April 1: Sometimes I look outside and think we are living in a Chernobyl or nuclear fall out situation. When our quarantine is over, agoraphobia will be a new thing to contend with.
• Day 17 April 7: I can feel myself slowly moving into a state of acceptance. The extreme anxiety seems to be gone. A weird normalcy is appearing, until I hear of a friend’s mother dying, another friend in the hospital. then all I can do is watch MASH reruns.
• Day 20 April 10: My first time venturing out to run errands. I managed to buy food, liquor, go to the bank (do we even need cash anymore?) without ever going into a building. Everyone (mostly) wears a mask and gloves. If you see a friend you chat from the opposite side of your car. It’s a first step towards trusting the world which really isn’t trustworthy yet.
• Day 25 April 15: One thing in the department of everything-else-keeps- happening. Today is the 33rd anniversary of Sam’s [our son’s] death. 33 years. How can that be? But it does show me that despite everything, time continues, there is always movement forward through time, if nothing else.
• Day 32 April 22: The CDC is now saying a new outbreak will likely happen during the flu season in the winter. Does that mean not only won’t I go to SE Asia in the fall, but also there’ll be no Cambodia trip in January? That is the big fear for me, of course. Regular days like today are great and feel like a gift. But it’s not normal.
• Day 40 April 30: Days are fine now, but I’m not sleeping well and I’m having weird dreams. I’ve had some nightmares about traveling or being in a strange place with strangers and people who barely know me. Then I wake up exhausted and anxious. Maybe I shouldn’t fool myself into thinking that just because my days now seem sort of normal, my anxiety is any less. Normal seeming days doesn’t mean this isn’t all still affecting me.
• Day 47 May 8: Another nightmare about war last night – maybe because I knew today would be my first inside-of-a-store shopping expedition? It went well though. Everyone follows one-way arrows down the aisle and if someone makes a mistake, you just wait. Everyone kept their distance. The protocol is you keep your gloves on from the time you enter the first shop until after the food is in the house. Unpack the bags outside and bring the items in separately. Wash the mask and throw out the gloves. Clean the counters. Maybe once this becomes automatic I’ll feel better about it, but right now it just makes me want to cry.
• Day 58 May 19: Things are opening up here. Every place has restrictions but there is a sense that slowly things are finding a new normal. It worries me, though. The possibility of a second outbreak is very real if people aren’t careful. It now feels more than ever that, for me, all this isn’t about how the world will function and what the future will look like. Now it’s about just trying not to get sick and staying that way until a feasible vaccine is made. Just don’t get sick.
• Day 59 May 20: A quiet, uneventful day. A little work. A little walk. A little reading. That’s it, oddly.
• Day 66 May 27: We’ve been discussing ‘bubbles’. Who do we let in? Who not? It comes down to who you can trust to be careful. There is a wide range of comfort levels. I’m trying not to feel judged about my own nervousness. The more I hear about what it is like to get this virus – assuming you survive it — the more phobic I become. But tomorrow is my birthday and despite having to cancel all my pre-arranged plans, I’m going to make the most of it.
• Day 73 June 4: I spent the day preparing for my sinus operation tomorrow. My CoVid test came back negative – actually the results said ‘None Detected’ which seems like a pretty wishy-washy statement to me. The Black Lives Matter demonstrations have started to subside now and I’m beginning to wonder if we really have finally reached a tipping point. Maybe change will happen. Against the backdrop of such global and national issues, my little sinus operation seems silly. Yet, it’s mine and I have to get through it, which I will. But really, how much more can we all take?
• Day 78 June 9: I have never believed myself to be immortal, unassailable. I get sick, things happen to me. But nothing puts your own mortal fragility into high relief so much as an operation. It has reminded me how terrible it is to be really not well, how much pain our body can endure even if not withstand. All this has made me more fearful of CoVid than ever. Right now, no risk seems worth taking, although I know I must leave my home again in time, for a post-op follow up, and then, to NYC to see mom. How can I not go see her after all this time, but the thought of it fills me with fear. I’m glad the operation is over and went well, but I”m more fearful than ever.
• Day 91 June 22: It’s interesting how I’m writing a bit less often here lately. It all feels like a roller coaster, up and down and for no apparent reason and no final landing. Honestly, nothing is getting any easier, and it all feels the same.
• Day 97 July 1: I have gone to and come back from New York. It was very stressful, but also very worth it. I realized how important it was to spend time with mom. She needed to see me and I needed to see her. Although I couldn’t wait to get back to the cocoon of my own home and community, leaving her again was incredibly upsetting. When will I venture back? Now that I am home I want to leave the house even less. Right now, there is nowhere I want to go. The agoraphobia which I have wondered about all along has now well and truly set in. I know it is important to live in the world as much as I can, but the world – at least the US – only seems to get worse and worse.
• Day 100 July 5: Yesterday was the 4th of July, but although I did eat two fantastic hot dogs, I didn’t feel like there was much to celebrate. 100 days of journaling this pandemic and a lot has changed while nothing has changed. I still find myself wondering if we are witnessing the beginning of the end of civilization.
• And so it continues……….