Sickness + Death + Mental Health = ?

It seems like I can only write once a year. That's probably even too much for people. Anyways, I’ve been trying to write this post for about a month. When I first started, an old friend of mine shared a little about her personal battle with anxiety and depression at the beginning of the month. I haven’t written anything substantial in a while, and she really inspired me to…. do the exact the same thing that she did. Just a lot less eloquently. Listen, I never said I was original. But you’re here now and you aren’t going to STOP reading, right? Right?? Wait no please, come back…

Anyways, we’re here. This has changed almost completely from the original idea I had to write about, and I’ll explain why. I hope this somehow makes sense and isn’t just word vomit. If it IS word vomit, I have a great reason, as you’ll see…..

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks! Civilization is in ruins, sports have all been cancelled or postponed and we have a nasty virus running roughshod over everything (I know sports are trivial and aren’t on the same level of importance as everything else going on, but I miss LeBron James.). That’s how my month started, just like everyone else.

Then 15 days ago, I woke up feeling like death. I have dealt with occasional migraines in my adult life, so I like to think that I can handle the pain that comes with being sick pretty well, but this was a different level. It hurt to move, if I breathed too hard I sent myself into a coughing fit, and I had some nasty chills. I decided to bite the bullet and go get tested for good old COVID-19.

Idaho has operating “drive-thru” testing centers. It’s actually super convenient and more efficient than I’d have thought. When I pulled up, they pre-screened me to make sure I met certain requirements (no point in wasting a test if the right signs aren’t there.). After taking the test, which is the most uncomfortable feeling I think I’ve ever had, I went home and quarantined myself until the results came back…. And it’s a good thing I did too!

I wasn't sure how long it would take, but my results came back somewhere around 60-ish hours after I’d taken the test. Sure enough, I had contracted the novel coronavirus. Neat! No idea when or how, but I had gotten it and was now looking at at least 14 days of quarantine.

I told the people who I felt like I needed to tell (warn?) and kept it from everyone else. People who I had been in contact with, or people who it would affect for the next two weeks. I didn’t want it to be a big deal, because I could handle it. I could deal with it, beat it and move on. I really don’t love attention and thinking of telling everyone was overwhelming and wasn't a fun thought.. I feel comfortable sharing this now because I’m over the hump and just about back to normal.

In the time between taking the test and getting the result, I’d felt a little worse each day, to the point where I had an hour or so of productive energy for the entire day on a good day. The rest of the time was spent trying to think or do as little as possible. The following week was about as nasty as it got. My lungs were OK considering how bad it gets in some cases, but even walking to the bathroom was a battle. I’d be out of breath just walking back and forth. My throat felt like Satan’s microwave, and I continued with my nasty cough.

Eventually, I started feeling better and got to the point where I almost felt normal again… and then my symptoms got worse. Up and down, back and forth, round and round I went.. It’s finally started to ease up and this week and I’m finally able to write this stupid piece that has been stuck in my head for a month. The subject matter has changed dramatically, but I’m just glad to get some words on the screen.

So! I got COVID. That sucks, but there are almost 3 million people who have had it (as of me writing this) so I'm not THAT special. The cherry on top of my COVID sundae though, was that my Grandma Bonnie passed away last Tuesday. She had been fighting for a long time, and she was ready to go reunite with our Grandpa. I like to think that our family was about as prepared as you can be for someone to die, but it’s still a rough situation. Our Buckley family is a team of superheroes and the decision makers handled the situation beautifully. A Zoom funeral is one of the stranger things I’ve been a part of, but it was perfect considering the circumstances.

If I’m being honest, this is the part of this post that is trickiest. I don’t really know how to explain how I feel. I’m going to miss my grandma obviously. Knowing she had lived a full life and was ready to go eased the pain a lot more than I thought it would, but it’s brought up some surprising feelings. I almost feel selfish for worrying about being sick while mourning. She died, and I’m worried about a cough? That doesn’t feel right to me. 

The focus should be on celebrating her life. On the wonderful family I have because of her. Not on James feeling sick. People get sick all the time, but you only lose your Grandma once. But obviously this sick is a whole different can of worms.

When I got my positive test diagnosis, I was nervous. I *sort of* knew about the VID (shout out Austin Evans), but I wasn’t nearly as educated as a person should be. It was the boogeyman hiding in the closet, and sure people were nervous and scared, but it couldn’t get to me. I wasn’t ready for the boogeyman to jump out of my closet and knock me out cold. My struggling mental health definitely wasn't ready either.

I’ve been diagnosed with two different kinds of anxiety - Social Anxiety Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. A big chunk of my anxiety comes from talking to, dealing with, or being anywhere around people. There are occasionally other things that spin me out, but a majority of it is people. This even includes friends and family. (It's not you, it's me I promise). That’s about as basic as I can cut it down to. Being sick has never triggered me, and I’ve always been able to handle it just fine. But the last few weeks under quarantine, my brain decided to flip flop it.

Since I’ve been quarantined, I have basically been by myself 24/7 for two weeks straight. I’ll have an occasional phone call with my dad, or Zoom call with my cousins, but as far as physically seeing another person, I have been alone for two weeks. If you'd have told me this 3 months ago, I would have been all in. No one bothers me? Sign me all the way up.

The problem is that even a hermit like me apparently has way more social interaction than I realized. Cutting that off has caused my brain to kick the depression into hyperdrive. I’m sick, bored, and depressed. Just laying in my bed all day. I’ve been MISERABLE. Then, with my grandma passing, I feel guilty for thinking about myself through all of this. I’m just laying around, why in the world should I be thinking about myself??? Who cares if I’m a little sad about my situation, when I should be sad and mourning over my grandma. Right?

This is a big long way of saying I’ve been depressed while being sick and I feel uber guilty about it. “Oh wow, he’s depressed AND has COVID-19?” doesn’t really feel great as a current life resumé. A lot of nights over the last couple of weeks have been spent staring at the ceiling wondering if anything actually matters. Still TBD on that. 

Everything just felt like too much all at once. I had a really bad few days in the middle... but now that I've made it through (what is hopefully) the hardest part, I've settled and can see the silver lining in it all. I like to think of myself as a big test dummy for people in my life. I'll do the hard thing first, and then I can help everyone else navigate it if/when they get there.

Like I touched on, I’m sharing this because I have started to feel much better. I’m two weeks out from my positive test, but I’ve stayed mostly in quarantine just to be safe. I live with my brother and 3 other roommates, so the last thing I want to do is jump the gun and get anyone else sick. I need a haircut, and my beard is longer than ever, but I’m starting to break out of the funk (I think). 

But now that I’m getting ready to resume normal life (or the new normal at least), guess what else is coming back to normal? The fight for the right to be the main antagonist in the story of “James Buckley vs his own damn head”. Getting ready to pick back up and start life again is great, but I am also terrified. My anxiety made a crazier comeback than the 2016 Cavaliers. I get to jump back in, try to catch up on everything and keep my head above water, all while maintaining social distancing and doing my best to make sure no one else gets sick.

The one moral of the story for myself: I know my family is going to be just fine as we move forward without Grandma. Her death helped put things in perspective for me though, giving me something else to think about besides myself. I really needed that as I pushed through the muck in my head and in my body. Fighting one virus is hard enough without creating a new battle to fight in your head.

I feel like I’ve said a whole lot of nothing in this post, but if you take anything away from this, please take this: this virus is the real deal. It’s kicked my butt for almost two full weeks and I had a pretty minor case and I’m a (relatively) healthy 24 year old adult. I can’t imagine how it feels to be on the younger or older side of the spectrum and deal with this. Please do every single thing you can to keep you and your family safe, while also doing your best to keep the public safe as well.

In addition to that – taking care of your mental health during this time is just as, if not more important than it was before. Take it from someone who let it get way too bad before he realized what was happening. Staying inside your house at all times is a TOUGH thing for a lot of people. The constant worry over getting sick, and the unknown we’re looking at for the next few months is really scary. But take it from someone who has gotten past this stupid virus: it’s beatable, and especially avoidable if you follow take proper precautions. Do your best not to let it stress you out. Let me do that for you. Somewhere, there is a balance of being safe and cautious without letting the fear consume you and wear you down mentally.

One thing I found was that writing down my thoughts and how I felt occasionally helped normalize it and get me through it. That’s an idea. Get an indoor hobby! Easier said than done, I’m just joking. With writing my thoughts down, it’s given me a few other thoughts on my mental health so you’ll probably see another post or two in the next week or so. Too much James, I agree. Let’s both promise you won’t read that next one. Deal?

If you have any questions or concerns, and you think this doofus can help you in any way, please reach out. I’m a pretty open book and I’m more than happy to give any advice I can.