I’ve been angry all day today.

Of course, there’s lots for all of us to be angry about. The suffering, the death, the fear, the economic uncertainty, the wave of pain and loss that feels poised to crest over all of us at any time.

But this anger – well, it’s personal.

The darkest, deepest inner part of me that feels unworthy of love and happiness and joy is screaming “OF COURSE!” Of COURSE during this sacred, unprecedented time of rest and renewal, as I am slowly tottering towards a place of health, focused on healing who I am, letting myself just “be,” just experiencing happiness in the present, this kind of catastrophe has to descend to replace that peace and calm with fear and anxiety. Of course the connection and care from my friends and family has to be brutally cut off, leaving me isolated and having to rely on myself. OF. COURSE.

Really, I do know that Covid-19 is not some plot by the universe against my happiness. I’m self-centred but I’m not that self-centred. I know I have to change that inner narrative that thinks that fear and anxiety and uncertainty are all that I deserve, that they are the inevitable replacements for the peace and security I was still in wonder at feeling. But frankly it’s difficult not to be resentful. It’s hard not to feel exhausted at the continuous trials. What is the lesson I am supposed to be learning from this new hardship, Universe?

And most of all, it’s hard not to feel impatient at being stuck waiting for this crisis to end in order to move forward. My rehab program is cancelled indefinitely; progressing my drug therapy is on hold as I’m prohibited from visiting any lab to do the testing necessary to increase the doses, as I must do to heal the damage to my heart. I’m stuck. And it’s so, so difficult to wait this out. If there’s anything that this year has taught me so far, it’s that no time is promised to us. I want to get on with the sweetness of life. And I’m afraid I’ll lose my tenuous grip on that sweetness while I wait.