Blurred Lines and Powerfully Afraid

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Global Status: 471,036

Recovered Cases: 114,224

Fatal Cases: 21,284

It was snowing again.

I dreamed of ragged people, starving, sunken eyes incapable of reaching emotion. I woke up sweaty; unsure if it was a dream or a premonition.

The blackness squirmed in my bowels while the world outside seemed so unreachable. What if the blackness spread to my head? What if it already had? What if none of this is real? What then? Will I ever come back from this insanity? This world I’ve created?

My heart cries and I don’t let it come out my eyes. Because what then? What if my husband asks what’s wrong and I tell him that I believe there’s a global pandemic and he calls my mom and my doctor and they talk in hushed voices on the phone. And then they want to take me on a little drive for fresh air? And I never come home?

My sleep and my awake are blurred lines and I’m not sure sometimes if something happened for real in the awake times. Or if it happened in 12 Monkeys. Or in Contagion.

And the bugs are all over my plants and the baseboards need cleaning and the sun smiles down from that blue-blue-blue sky and I am powerfully bewildered.

And I Am Powerfully Afraid.