The Parents are in Town!

Since I moved back to Los Angeles after my two-year stint living in Hong Kong, my parents have not visited me and it has been almost a decade! This past Labor Day weekend, my mother and stepfather finally came to town, and everything that could go wrong went wrong. No running water, racist attack, and my car died in the middle of Hollywood—all within the first two days of their visit.

A water pipe on my street burst the night before my parents’ arrival and I had no running water for 20 hours! The workers from the LA Department of Water and Power were up all night attempting to fix the issue with no idea when the problem would be fixed. When my parents arrived the next day, I couldn’t bring them home after their long flight because we couldn’t use the toilet, wash our hands, or cook. It’s so easy to take for granted the luxury of running water! I took them to lunch at Din Tai Fung for Taiwanese food and then walked around Century City Mall. After a couple hours, we decided to come home with the game plan of walking to a nearby cafe to hang out when any of us needed to use the bathroom. When we got home, the water still was not fixed. My parents wanted to relax after their plane ride and did not want to have to go out again so we were all hesitant to hydrate. Fortunately after a couple more hours, the water came back on before we had to venture out to find a toilet! Hallelujah! Thank goodness I showered and washed my hair the night before.

On their first night in LA, I took them to one of my old favorite restaurants, Tar & Roses, in Santa Monica. I hadn’t been in 2 years and was excited to be able to share the experience with them. I don’t go out to eat that often anymore because I’m finding that the quality and service has changed a lot since the pandemic and I’m usually disappointed. Of course, it’s even more difficult to impress my parents. They are accustomed to delicious seafood in Boston. The restaurant scene in Boston is amazing, unpretentious, less expensive, and always reliable wherever you go. And the pandemic has not changed that. When I was there recently this past May, I found myself impressed by every single meal I ate out at a restaurant.

And then after dinner, we were victims of a verbal racist attack. As we walked back to my car on Santa Monica Blvd and 5th, a white man pulled at his eyes and yelled, “Hey, hey, you Ch*nk family!” Fortunately, my parents didn’t understand what happened. They didn’t understand what the man said or did. But I understood and my blood boiled. I yelled obscenities at him as he walked away. I explained what happened to my parents and they weren’t upset. Or maybe they were and just didn’t show it. They were probably used to internalizing it. But I don’t want this to be something anyone has to “get used to.” My parents survived a genocide and came to America as refugees searching for a better life and it seems like not much has changed since their early days in this country. My mother has already been through so much in this life and I was so upset that she had to experience racism in LA on her first night visiting me.

The incident was triggering. Made me think of the years of microaggressions and acts of racism that I have experienced my entire life. When someone makes you feel less than one day, sure, maybe you can shrug it off. But how about if someone makes you feel less than every day. Or maybe once a week, once a month. Then multiply that by every year you have lived. And now imagine it’s not just one person making you feel less than all those years. It’s someone at work. Someone at school. Someone at the grocery store. Someone off the street. It’s your neighbor. It’s someone in your friend group. It’s not one person you can avoid. Not one incident. It’s everywhere. Throughout different stages of your life. Happening again and again. What does that do to your mental health over time? What does that do to your sense of worth?

Going into the weekend, I was already feeling fragile with some other things going on in my life and also with everything happening in Afghanistan, which is a reminder of what happened to my parents in Cambodia with the genocide. It’s so sad and upsetting. During the early days of the pandemic, I went on walks often to get out of the house. Then I stopped when the violence against Asian Americans, and particularly the Asian elderly, increased. Only in the last couple months, I had been feeling comfortable enough to go on walks again and then this happened. It’s not something I could just easily shake off.

The next day, I took my parents for a Thai lunch at Hoy Ka in Hollywood. When we walked back to my car afterwards, my car wouldn’t start. I had to call for a tow truck and learned that my car battery was dead. Got a jump start and had to spend our afternoon at Pep Boys waiting to get my battery replaced. This was the 3rd thing that went wrong that weekend. I tried as hard as I could to put on a face so that I wouldn’t worry my parents, but the truth is, I felt so beaten down. I’m sure they noticed. I had no appetite. I couldn’t eat. When we came home, I saged the apartment. My mother superstitiously threw rice and salt over my balcony and did a short prayer with insence. Leading up to my parents’ visit, I had already been stressed for weeks with work and it had been on my mind all weekend. That next day, I collapsed onto my bed and napped for two hours. I never nap but I was so emotionally and mentally exhausted and my body couldn’t hold it in anymore. You can try to act like everything is okay, but your body doesn’t lie. Everything was not okay.

People say things happen in threes. That was it for us that weekend—the broken water pipe, the racist attack, and my dead car battery. We spent the rest of their time in LA cooking, eating, and visiting the Venice Canals and the beach. I’m glad my parents visited me but I’m sure it wasn’t the best trip for them. After I dropped them off at the airport, I felt a huge weight lifted from me. I no longer felt pressure to pretend that everything was okay. I felt like I could sort through all my complicated emotions and thoughts without having to fake it. I felt like I was finally allowed to be exhausted and not have to worry about how that was perceived or how it would affect anyone else.

That same week after much contemplation, I decided to part ways with a client. I realized it was not a good fit for me and it had been negatively affecting my mental health for weeks. Sometimes you have to walk away and let go of things that don’t serve you, as hard as it may be. When I made the decision, I came home and napped for two hours! The next day, I napped again. I’ve never napped so much in ONE week! My body was mentally and emotionally drained. And it took me about 5 days to recover. I am just starting to feel like myself again. I’m slowly coming back to life.

It’s ironic that my last post was about feeling good. As easily and quickly as things can go well, things can all come crashing down at once as well. You have to take the good with the bad. Things can change and turn around in a second. But all experiences are learning experiences and we can’t have one without the other.

I would love to add some new recipes to the blog soon. But for now, I need to take care of my mental health, listen to my body, and give myself a break. In the meantime, check out my Instagram for all the yummy food we ate during my parents’ visit!

Life Update

I can sometimes be a sensitive little bunny. I overanalyze things, replay stuff in my head, and sometimes create stories that don’t exist. I can be histrionic, melancholic, empathetic, and deeply affected by my surroundings. I sometimes need reassurance and validation from others. So you can imagine giving up on corporate life and pursuing a personal dream has not been easy for me!

Thinking back on this journey, I didn’t have faith in myself, but somehow (I really have no idea how), I kept persisting and moving forward. And now I’m in year 3 of independently working for myself with 70 recipes, pages of creative memoir stories, and dozens of social media partnerships under my belt. And I’m happy to announce, after turning down a direct publishing offer a couple months ago, I have officially signed with a literary agent! I have to stop for a minute and show myself some love. I never thought I would find an agent that is as passionate about my memoir cookbook as I am. But I found her! I’m in the home stretch and hopefully am on my way to getting published soon!

The last year and a half have not been easy with the pandemic. There have been lots of lows and then small highs or more like mediums and then back to lows again with me questioning whether things would ever get better. During the last couple months I started to feel bouts of intense self-negative talk, existential confusion, and lack of direction. I had finished all of my cookbook writing and didn’t have a concrete plan for what was next for me. I couldn’t find a new client for my consulting business and had gotten lots of rejections from literary agents. I sulked alone in my dark pit for awhile and then forced myself to be social as an attempt to rescue myself. I was ready to admit defeat and accept all the failed outcomes in my life, but then things began to turn around. Within less than 2 months, four literary agents expressed interest in my cookbook, I got a new client for my consulting business, and landed a new social media partnership with a brand I love! I basically have 3 jobs. It’s complicated but also fun to be able to mix things up.

Sometimes my little heart can’t handle the emotional rollercoaster that is life. I’m not good at riding the waves. In fact, I can’t swim so it makes riding the waves a little harder and scarier. Everything passes though—the good, the bad, and the ugly—and you just gotta learn how to roll with all the punches. I am trying to get better at letting go and not attaching myself to certain outcomes. Hope for the best, and just keep moving forward, and whatever happens, happens. And when I haven’t been able to handle my emotions lately, I’ve indulged in donuts and cake. A sweet treat really does help!

My life isn’t perfect. I don’t have everything that I desire. But in this moment, I’m feeling good and I’m going to sit with this feeling of pride, love, and gratitude for a bit.

Happy 2021!

Happy NEW Year! I had been meaning to check in on the blog but then chaos ensued after only a few days into the new year. The riots at the Capitol were so upsetting. I had a lot of feelings and needed some time to process. I’m deeply saddened by the acts of ignorance, hate, racism, and white supremacy in our country. I can’t help but feel a little scared and nervous about the future with everything happening right now. While I think that having new leadership will help, as a country, we still have a long way to go and so much to learn.

Here in Los Angeles, we are still in a lockdown. I survived the holidays. It was a little lonely and isolating but I bounced back quicker than I thought I would. People all around me are still traveling and seeing their friends and carrying on as normal (or close to normal) and I’m wondering if I should be doing the same? I haven’t seen my family in a year and a half. I haven’t been on a plane in a year. I do see people occasionally for social distant hangs, walks, and hikes but probably not as regularly as I should to maintain my mental health.

I was starting to feel the isolation creeping in on me again as we entered the new year. So then last weekend, I made plans for 2 back to back hangs, 2 days in a row. One was a challenging 4 mile uphill hike to Sandstone Peak in Malibu and the other was a 5 mile walk along Zuma Beach in Malibu. I had also hiked 3 times that week leading up to the weekend and had a few back to back FaceTime calls the Friday night prior. That following Monday, I was completely exhausted and as a result, was not as productive as I had wanted to be. Plus, my body was completely sore from all the hiking and exercise. By Tuesday morning, I still had not recovered. I woke up with an allergy attack and was basically incapacitated on the couch for the whole day. My body did not like all of that action! As an introvert, too much social activity can be draining but now, in a pandemic, after becoming accustomed to quarantine and isolation, I must have hit a whole new level of social exhaustion combined with too much physical ventures. Anyway, because of that setback, I worked all of this weekend on my cookbook to catch up with the time that I lost during the week.

With my consulting at a halt at the moment due to my project ending last November, I finally have the time to refocus on my cookbook. It was hard to transition back to a creative and entrepreneurial mindset and schedule though. It took a couple of weeks of resistance in December before I found the momentum to get going again. In the last year, it was not possible for me to work on the cookbook while also juggling full-time consulting work, brand partnerships, content creation, and my blog. I believe this break from consulting is a blessing in disguise because now I can commit my time to the cookbook again. My passion project requires more energy. Creativity for me requires more energy. I notice that when there is too much space and time between each piece of the cookbook that I work on, it then reflects in my work. The quality, depth, connection, and flow suffer. I’ll forget why I wrote something or how I made a dish.

Since mid-December, I’ve been FaceTiming with my mom several days a week to discuss my recipes, photos, Khmer translations, ideas, and facts about our history. I’m going back through all my recipes and editing the writing, reorganizing the flow, and deciding which ones I need to reshoot. Even though I devoted the entire 2019 to cooking most of the recipes in the book (and thought I was almost done), I’ve just added more new recipes to my list and I still have desserts that I need to make. And I’d like to add more stories. I still have a lot to do and it has been so exhausting. One evening, I spoke with my mom for 2 hours just about herbs! HERBS! Each of our calls last 2 hours. There’s so much detail to go through and understand. But I know I can do it!

Last week, on a call with a new therapist, she asked me what I do for fun after I had updated her on all the things I’ve been working on and all the emotions I had been feeling. Her question made me pause and think. I had been spending all my time working on the cookbook, FaceTiming with my mom or sister to brainstorm about contents of the cookbook, going to virtual therapy, and attending virtual support groups. Basically, all my time had been devoted to either my cookbook or my mental health. It has been awhile since I’ve dedicated a day or even a few hours to doing something that brings me joy. I was diligent about allocating one day a week to joy last summer and I did do a couple road trips in November that brought me some joy. But I hadn’t really incorporated joy into part of my everyday life recently. I’ve kind of lost my balance again. And that’s okay. It happens. It’s hard to maintain balance all the time.

So this coming week, I’m going to be thinking about some new ways to spark joy for me and try to incorporate it more regularly into my life. I also think that we all need to show ourselves a little compassion and grace for just surviving everything that is happening in the world right now. It’s a lot. In the meantime, I hope you find some way to bring a little bit of joy into your life as well. And if you have ideas, please comment on this post and share! I’d love to hear!

The End of Summer 2020

We are in the middle of a heatwave in Los Angeles right now. It’s the end of August and also the end of the summer of 2020. What a year it has been! We are still in the midst of an on-going pandemic, which I don’t think anyone expected to last this long. The pandemic has forever changed our lives in so many ways.

Like many of you, I resisted the reality of the pandemic when Covid first took over the world. I thought it would be temporary. I was caught up in the initial shock and hysteria. I was annoyed by the inconvenience of long lines at the grocery stores, sold out supplies, business closures, and the lockdown. I was sad for the people who got sick, the kids who couldn’t go to school, and the people who lost their jobs. I was worried about the future of our economy. But other than that, I really wasn’t ready to look beyond the surface. And yet, it still felt like the world was ending because globally, we have never experienced anything like this before in our modern world that is dependent upon instant gratification, technology, endless options, and distractions.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. Up until the pandemic hit, I was working so much—balancing three clients, working day and night and weekends, in addition to managing my social media and blog, testing out recipes, and creating content. On top of all of that, I was in a relationship that drained whatever energy I had left. I was burnt out. I lost sight of the things that brought me happiness. I stopped making time for me.

But then at the start of the pandemic, my relationship ended and my work focus shifted to one client. I still continued blogging and creating content but I had more time on my hands with the lockdown and social distancing. I distracted myself with practicing ukelele, Marie-Condo-ing my closet, trying new recipes, reading, baking nutella swirl banana bread, joining Instagram Live Yoga Sculpt classes, and going on long walks. For awhile, these distractions worked. Then after a couple of months of lockdown and limited exposure to the outside world, I was spending a lot of time in my own thoughts and starting to feel very alone and isolated. I felt disconnected from my friends and family. Old traumas were triggered and I became depressed. My world seemed foggy. I lost touch with myself and I didn’t know what to do to pull myself out of the darkness.

It was a rough journey at the beginning. I was forced to grow in ways I didn’t expect. I always think I’m done growing, that I know myself, that I’ve learned everything that I’ve needed to learn, and that I’ve resolved all my past issues. The truth is, that job is never done. We are constantly faced with challenges and lessons throughout our lives and the year of 2020 is no different. As Oprah says, life is a master class and we are the students. We are tested over and over again, in different ways. And there is not one same solution.

I had to relearn how to create happiness and joy for myself in new, small and simple ways. I had to stop worrying and planning for a future that is now even more uncertain than ever. Healing really forces you to focus on the present moment and take life day by day. It does not happen overnight and does not result from making one change. Healing is a combination of many things, that together, propel you forward. I joined a support group. I started reaching out to more people, to create a community for myself with social distant walks or picnics. I set boundaries with work and committed to taking summer Fridays off to do something for myself that brings me joy, whether it meant creating new content by testing out new recipes or taking myself out for a solo lunch date or spending the day at the beach. Somehow, over the course of July, I felt so much better.

I’m an introvert at heart and I’m always searching for a connection with everyone I meet. However, I don’t always find it with people and it’s even harder to find it during a pandemic. Plus, I live in Los Angeles. I don’t think it’s crazy for me to say that it’s really hard to find a connection with people here. But this summer has taught me to reconnect with myself. And as a result, I’m learning how to reconnect with the world again. Not every connection has to be a soulful, deep connection. I think I always have that expectation of people, which would leave me feeling disappointed in the past. Now, I’m accepting the fact that some connections are small connections, but even small connections matter, especially during a global crisis.

I’m such a nerd at heart. Even my approach to mental health is nerdy. I takes notes of things that come up during the week as I engage with the world, interact with people, listen to podcasts, and participate in support group. Then I discuss these topics during my therapy sessions. I’m doing my homework. I’m working on me. It’s not always easy to do but it definitely pays off. I was so upset and depressed during the first four months of the pandemic. But these last two months of summer, I have felt so much stronger emotionally. I’ve learned so much about myself and I’m proud of my growth.

Surprisingly, I’ve had a good summer. I’ve gone to the beach more this summer than I have ever before. I’ve seen schools of dolphins almost every time I’ve visited the beach. I’ve had lovely picnics and hangouts in the park. I’ve reconnected with nature. I’ve befriended my neighbors. I made a new romantic connection. I’ve had the best birria tacos from a food truck in Echo Park. I’ve partnered with some new brands to create some fun collaborations. I’ve spent more time enjoying sunsets on my rooftop.

Now it’s the end of August and the end of summer and I can honestly say that I feel happy right now. Happy! Imagine that! Happy during a pandemic and global crisis! I’m going to try to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can because nothing in life is constant. The pandemic has really forced me to enjoy the moment, slow down, and be more present. As hard as it has been, I am so grateful for all my lessons this year.

Can We Talk About Mental Health?

Mental health is so important. Especially now, when the world seems to be falling apart and the near future looks bleak and uncertain.  No one is exempt from the many effects of Covid. Life feels so confusing. Any struggles that existed for you pre-pandemic are probably amplified right now, forcing you to confront your deepest fears and inner demons. We all have them. It’s not easy.

I am grateful that I found a new therapist just before the pandemic started, who I continue to see via Zoom. This year has been tough and it has triggered a lot of trauma, which paired w the pandemic, has made me feel even more isolated and alone. After sitting with that pain for a little bit (not wallowing but exploring those feelings, triggers, and root causes), I knew I needed to do something about it. Therapy helps, but I needed something more.

So I joined a support group. I would have never thought to do this had the pandemic not happened. It’s so easy to dismiss your feelings and distract yourself with the chaos of life when the world is running as normal. And not so easy to do, when you’re mostly confined to the four walls of your home. A lot of us avoid painful emotions or trauma because it’s uncomfortable. And we don’t like to be uncomfortable. But outside the boundaries of our comfort zone is where we grow.

I had only told one other person about joining a support group. Today, I decided to share this because I believe it’s important to talk about. It’s part of human nature to crave connection and community, and to desire to be seen and understood. Sometimes, that’s not always available with the network you have. Not everyone has the capacity to be there for you in the ways that you may need. But don’t let that discourage you from finding other resources. I’m happy I did. It has only been a few weeks, but I’m so grateful that I found a support group that I can identify with. We aren’t meant to live in this world alone. We don’t have to do everything on our own.

Like many of you, I’m healing old broken wounds. I’m falling apart so that I can rebuild myself, better than before. I’m learning how to take care of ALL of me. It’s part of growth and healing. It’s part of this journey we are all on together.

It is important to remember that social media is an edited, filtered, curated, and often staged highlight reel of life. It’s not reality. Anyone can smile quickly for a photo. Remember to take care of your mind, body, and spirit.

Life Right Now

The last couple of weeks have been very emotional for me, as I’m sure it has been for everyone. I’m angry, upset, and sad that we live in a world that is filled with so much racism, violence, and hate. News and social media are flooded with updates on more violence and police brutality. I can’t help but read up on everything—every death, every act of violence reported, every story, and people’s opinions of events, and then getting emotional and angry. I think we all have a lot of learning and unlearning to do. I want to help in any way that I can by sharing the news, signing petitions, donating to the Black Lives Matter movement, and also protesting (this was my first time). Change is needed and these protests have already made a difference over the last 3 weeks. Amongst all this chaos, it’s beautiful to see people come together to fight for change.

However, a part of me also feels helpless. The first weekend of the protests were a little scary because I live in the middle of where a lot of the violence and looting erupted. This caused curfews to be placed on the city for 5 days, storefronts on every street to be boarded up, and the National Guard to be called in. With a global pandemic, civil unrest (rightfully so), and 3 months of lockdown, my anxiety was soaring. It was hard to focus on work yet work was busier than ever. I wished there was more conversation at the digital “office”. A part of me was addicted to keeping up with all the news updates, but at the expense of my own mental health. I thought it was my duty to keep up with everything and share it on my social media channels even though it made me feel enraged and emotional all the time. I thought that if I didn’t do those things, if I didn’t immerse myself in all of the negative things happening in the world, then it would mean that I didn’t care. So I was not allowing myself a “break” from the news. I was not allowing myself to feel any type of joy. But what good was that doing to anyone, including myself? Can I still learn, listen, and share without drowning in all of the negative news?

I had my 2nd anxiety attack last week (my first one was at the start of the lockdown). With the world around me feeling like it’s falling apart and living mostly in self-isolation for months, I have felt really alone and sometimes, scared in my own apartment. I’ve been very emotional in the last 2 weeks and I’ve cried a lot. Like the rest of the world, I’m probably just feeling more vulnerable and sensitive to everything because I’m worn down by all of the problems we are facing right now—the pandemic, the lockdown, social distancing, the downfall of our economy, and also the recent protests that have shed more light on the injustice and racism that still exists in the U.S. today. I’m worried about my future. I’m worried about the world. I feel disconnected from people. Everyone is struggling mentally right now and dealing with their own problems so it’s hard to seek consolation from anyone.

Recently, a particular childhood memory had been reoccurring in my thoughts and making me feel very emotional. I was maybe about 5 years old, living in Stockton, CA as a child. My older sister was in school. My younger sister was next door, at the neighbor’s. My father was around, even though he was usually absent during my childhood. My mother urged me to go to my neighbor’s with my younger sister. But I didn’t want to. At 5 years old, I felt too proud to go to my neighbor’s. I didn’t want to feel like a burden. I didn’t want them to think I needed them. I felt embarrassed and maybe even ashamed. My parents needed to leave. I think they were going to work. They got into the car and backed out from the parking lot of the apartment complex. I cried. I cried while running after their car, yelling out for them and begging them not to leave me. And then, they were gone. I ran back into the apartment, sat on the couch with tears streaming down my face. Then I saw a rat run across the living room and I screamed and cried even harder. I don’t remember what happened after that. Maybe I watched cartoons and eventually stopped crying and fell asleep. I don’t know. I was always a scared child. I’m a scared adult too, actually. I’ve always remembered this moment from my childhood but for some reason, it had been replaying in my head a lot during the first week of the protests in LA.

Then I realized the parallel. I live in an apartment by myself. I’ve felt very alone and scared here during the pandemic and the initial violent protests. There is an annoying squirrel that I’m scared of also that runs back and forth across my balcony rail, and sometimes he even comes up to my balcony door. I’ve had this squirrel problem for some time but I have never been home as much as I have been now due to the pandemic. I’ve named him Stuart. Sometimes Stuart crawls up my screen door, sprawled out like spiderman. One time, he climbed up my balcony chair, stared at me, and then jumped towards me but hit the window and fell back. I don’t like Stuart. He’s aggressive. He startles me sometimes when I’m out there and I run back into my apartment. I just realized that the squirrel is symbolic of the rat from my childhood memory!

Also, I had spoken to my ex-boyfriend the weekend of the first violent protests in my neighborhood, and I broke down and cried to him. I broke down a lot that first week. I was so upset and scared. He offered to come over to be with me, and he even said I could stay at his place if I was too scared at my apartment by myself. It was a nice gesture but I said no, even though it would have been nice to not be alone and to be comforted by someone who I knew cared about me. Instead, I cried all week on my own. Then I realized HE was playing the role of my neighbor from my childhood memory! Granted, there are other complications with seeing an ex-boyfriend, but I was also too proud. I didn’t want to appear needy and weak, and maybe I was even a little embarrassed that I was falling apart emotionally.

The current circumstances of the world seem to have brought me back to how I felt when I was 5 years old—abandoned, neglected, isolated, scared, and alone. I don’t blame my mother. She survived a genocide in Cambodia and an abusive marriage with my father. She was learning a new language, adapting to living in a new country as an immigrant and refugee, going to community college, and working 3 different jobs to support us. She had very little resources then and we were poor. But I was a little girl, scared at home and scared of the world and scared of my father.

It was very powerful for me to realize all of these parallels. I don’t have to relive my past though. I can change my present. I can change the trajectory of my future. I don’t have to be completely alone and isolated all the time. Even though it is challenging to connect with people right now during a time of social distancing, I can still make more of an effort. It might take a little work to find the right people to connect with, since everyone is going through their own issues right now and may not have the capacity to be as supportive as I might need.

But it’s not impossible, I hope. I had this problem a few weeks ago and sought out the company of a couple of friends (honoring social distancing guidelines), thinking it would make me feel better to see people, but then I actually felt worse after seeing them. I didn’t feel like I could share with them all of my feelings. I felt judged. I didn’t feel understood. It didn’t seem like they wanted to engage in the type of conversation that I was craving with another human being. Seeing them just reinforced my feeling of being alone and made me feel even more depressed. However, I can’t let that one attempt, and a couple others, deter me. I just have to keep trying (and brush off the disappointment and maybe even rejection) and be open to reaching out more, asking for help, and accepting help. I am so grateful that I have my Zoom appointments with my therapist every other week.

Even though some stores, restaurants, and businesses have started to reopen and more people are out, the pandemic still exists. Masks are required to be worn everywhere. It’s such a strange time we live in. A part of me is confused as to how to proceed with my life. I feel anxious about the transition back to some sort of normalcy. Maybe what I’m feeling is social anxiety because I’ve gotten so accustomed to quarantining. I’ve seen people gathering together in groups and expanding their social loop. And this makes me feel like I should be doing the same versus continuing to practice social distancing and being alone. I think a part of me is envious because I don’t know if I’m ready to start socializing again or even where to begin.

I’ve lost touch with people during the lockdown. Or maybe I was never really in touch with them in the first place? I just don’t feel like many people are available to me anymore for a few different reasons. Everyone has different comfort levels with seeing people during the pandemic. A lot of people my age have partners and families and don’t really feel a need to expand their loop beyond that or they are just dealing with their own challenges at the moment. In the past, my outlets for socializing, when my partnered friends weren’t available, would be to join activity groups or attend different networking events. Right now, it’s not really an option though because of the pandemic. I guess my fear is that if I try to find my way back to “normal,” I will realize that the pandemic wasn’t the reason I was alone. I may have been alone even before. I think I’ve felt alone for most of my life. And I need to change that. I don’t have to live my life like that little 5 year old girl, crying on the couch by herself.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I found different ways of entertaining myself—practicing ukelele, taking long walks, trying lots of new recipes, organizing, yoga. Over time though, I have felt less and less motivated to do any of those things. But I think, along with making more of an effort to reach out and connect with people, I also need to get creative again and explore newer ways of sparking joy for myself. It’s okay to seek joy. It’s okay to take breaks from the news and social media. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care about the injustice that is happening around the world.

I made doctor appointments this week now that offices are accepting patients again. I have an annual physical scheduled, a physical therapy session, and an upcoming appointment with an Ear, Nose, Throat specialist that I had been putting off for over a year. I also have a massage scheduled for this Friday. My body has been so tense and tight, and a massage will definitely help with all of the stress that I’ve been feeling and holding onto.

I’m healing old broken wounds. I’m falling apart so that I can put myself back together. I’m learning how to take care of me. And that is a journey in itself.

Hi.

It is now month 3 of quarantine and social distancing. I cannot even believe it. When the lockdown first started, they said it was only going to be 2 weeks of quarantine. Even then, I thought, 2 weeks?! I can’t do 2 weeks! And now we are in month 3! It’s almost June already! This is all so crazy. They have opened up hiking trails, beaches, and parks finally, which makes things a little bit better I guess. But still, now what?

During this whole process, I’ve had a lot of ups and downs… mostly downs. It started out rough, then I adjusted to (or got used to) this new life and felt better. But then after the lockdown end-date kept getting pushed back, I fell back into a slump. On the first official day of lockdown, I had my first anxiety attacked. About a week ago after 2 months of lockdown, I had a breakdown that lasted for about a week. I couldn’t stop crying. Everything set me off. It was hard to pull myself out of it. And it wasn’t like I wasn’t trying. I definitely put an effort into trying to change my mindset. I resorted to my usual comforts—taking walks, cooking, baking, working, listening to spiritual podcasts, hiking, talking to people, drinking, meditating—but nothing made me feel better. Plus, everyone is struggling right now and preoccupied with their own challenges, so I didn’t really feel like talking to anyone helped.

When I feel this way, I get annoyed with people’s attempts to be uplifting with their excessive positivity and gratitude messages. Like you can’t just get rid of depression by thinking positively. I practice positivity and gratitude when I can, and I do appreciate positive, grateful, and kind people, but I also think it’s important to acknowledge the shit that sometimes happens in life. It’s okay to have a shit day or a shit week. Let me have that moment versus burying it. Let me explore what’s triggering those feelings and where those feelings are coming from. I’m not encouraging negativity or marinating in your unhappy thoughts. I just don’t think that because you practice positivity and gratitude, your problems are going to magically go away. It’s okay to not feel okay all the time, as long as you at least try to practice positive habits. Hopefully, things will get better with time. And if not, thank goodness for Zoom calls with therapists!

Fortunately for me, the fog lifted and I’m feeling much better this week. I can’t tell you exactly what was bothering me so much last week that changed this week. Nothing changed and I didn’t do anything differently. I continued practicing my positive habits everyday knowing that it wasn’t going to disappear overnight. Eventually those negative feelings didn’t feel so sharp anymore, even though they still linger. I am grateful that this time, the clouds didn’t hover for as long as it has in the past for me.

HOW ARE YOU ALL FEELING? Would love to hear your thoughts!