The Psychology Of Quarantine In 2020
I’ve tried to sit down several times during the six-plus weeks I’ve been quarantined and write something profound about the whole experience, which seems like it’d be an easy task given that every one of us is living through historic times. Strangely though, I struggled to put anything down on paper for weeks.
But whether I realized it or not, being stuck inside your home for months on end can really mess with your mental state. In fact, many psychology professionals are comparing these feelings to the classic stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. That’s exactly what’s happening right now; we’re all grieving. Grieving the loss of freedom, physical connection, and for some, any semblance of hope - no one has any idea what the future holds, after all.
The following thoughts are what I’ve gathered about my own psychological journey in quarantine.
Denial - Once the first cases of COVID-19 reached New York state, people started to worry. As the weeks went by and the number of infections skyrocketed, it became clear that this would impact every one of us. Gyms closed, crowds were banned, and conversations sparked about whether it was even safe to come to work anymore.
As someone who needs routine in their daily life in order to retain the smallest amount of sanity, accepting the fact that I would need to give all of that up just so that “a few old people wouldn’t die” felt rather appalling to me. I figured the media was at least somewhat blowing it out of proportion, and there was no way they were going to get me to stay home from work long-term.
Anger - Of course, I eventually accepted that the virus was in fact a big problem, and after a week or so of being quarantined at home, the anger phase hit hard. I was (and still am) livid at the government’s initial inaction, our failing economic system, the media and corporations for capitalizing off of mass panic, and other people for not doing the right thing. I couldn't do much with that pent-up anger, so I channeled it into writing, and here we are now.
Bargaining - It was one morning in week two of quarantine that I woke up with a dry chest cough. “It’s nothing, just allergies,” I repeatedly told myself. But after three or four days of this I started developing a fever (which I initially wrote off as “anxiety”), persistent headaches, chills, and several other symptoms indicative of COVID-19. But perhaps worse than actually being sick was the fear of the unknown.
what if I have COVID-19? What if it gets worse and I have to go to the hospital and they don’t have enough ventilators? Am I going to die?
And then came the "bargaining."
if only I hadn’t gone to the grocery store yesterday, or, I should’ve been more diligent about practicing social distancing in public spaces.
Depression - After a couple weeks I made it out of whatever the aforementioned sickness was just fine, but the fear of the unknown still lingered. The jury was very much still out on when we’d all be able to go back to our normal lives. Some sources I read said three weeks, while others claimed we’d be in total lock down until August.
With no end to any of this in sight, I stopped caring at all about my appearance or exercising regularly, because what was the point? Especially since I had presumably already had the virus. I constantly felt trapped in my own home and the only salvation I had from that was getting outside, even for just a few minutes at a time - the problem was, I always knew I had to come back.
No one really knows when we’ll be allowed to visit with friends again, or go to a bar, or even go back to work. For me, the uncertainty has been the most difficult thing to accept.
Acceptance - And here I am today, resting “comfortably” in the acceptance phase. This is normal life now, and everything I do feels routine and ordinary at this point. It’s been a life of waking up 15 minutes before starting work, wearing my pajamas all day, trying desperately to find any privacy at all in my cramped New York City apartment, and going outside whenever the opportunity arises (generally once a day in the evenings).
Could it be worse? Absolutely, 100% yes, without question. There are still days when I feel terrible, like nothing will ever go back to normal again, but at the end of the day I direct myself back to all the things I have to be grateful for - and let me tell you, it’s a lot of things.
In a way, it’s almost like my initial struggle to find the words to write this blog post was just a manifestation of the acceptance stage. As dramatic as it sounds, at week seven of being quarantined, I have to think hard about what life was even like before this all started.
While I’ve certainly experienced a plethora of negative thoughts in these trying times, I’ve found that there really is a silver lining if you just look for it. For example, being quarantined has allowed me more time for connecting with friends back home in Seattle, discovering new music, saving money, and as painfully cliched as it sounds, I’ve had much more time to write for fun and rediscover writing as a passion. In fact, my creativity has positively flourished in this time.
I’ll end on this note: on a walk a few weeks ago, I discovered what’s now become known as the “7 o’clock cheer” where every night from 7 to 7:05 pm sharp, New Yorkers step out onto their balconies and lean out their windows to make as much noise as possible in solidarity with all of the essential workers who put their lives at risk every day just to keep the rest of society alive and functioning.
It’s little things like this that put the tiniest smile on your face in such dark, uncertain times - and that’s all we can really ask for right now.
Michelle
April 29, 2020
