What “living with fear” has looked like for me in 2023
6 months since my viral tweet, the virus persists—and so do I.
Dear reader, time flies: as of today, it’s been six months since I posted my tweet back on January 3rd that went viral (~30K likes, ~3K retweets, ~1 million impressions), which likely led you to my Twitter, and then on to this Substack. (How ironic, considering I complained about people who write Substack articles in my viral tweet, and yet, here we are!)
It’s been a very interesting and full 6 months, to say the least. While a lot has changed, much also has (surprise, surprise) stayed the same.
Nationally, we’ve seen laws pass and court decisions come down that continue to boggle and bash our sense of safety and rights as people. It’s been a year since we lost Roe v. Wade, and in many states, women’s access to and quality of healthcare just keeps getting worse. Families are desperately relocating out of Texas and Florida, among other southern states, to save their children. I think Florida has thrown all of its books into the ocean? And just recently, not only did a seemingly made-up court case out of Colorado about businesses’ ability to discriminate make it all the way to the Supreme Court and win, but the bought-out and Republican-packed SCOTUS struck down affirmative action. Don’t get me started on the student loan debt decision. None of this is within my area of expertise, but all the experts seem to be saying one thing: it’s bad. It’s all really, ridiculously bad.
We also lost any form of collective precautions and protections for COVID-19 in the U.S. when the federal public health emergency expired on May 11, 2023. Yet as of the three year anniversary in March, COVID-19 was still killing more than 3,500 people each week. Tens of millions of people in the U.S. alone still struggle with and/or have become disabled by serious, post-infection health issues known colloquially as Long Covid—and this number grows each day. Yet America continues to rely on vaccination as its only national strategy to fight the virus, while most people still haven’t gotten a booster, vaccination only slightly reduces the risk of Long Covid, and the virus continues to develop new, nastier symptoms and evolve to evade our vaccinated immune systems.
For those of us attempting to keep a finger on the pulse, testing and data is out the window, and we rely on wastewater to track its spread and prevalence in communities. (Be sure to check out the People’s CDC if you haven’t already.) So for the most part, we have to assume it’s everywhere and act accordingly every day.
Most people, however, will now do almost anything to avoid saying the “c-word,” as apparently the flu and colds are now “summer viruses” that come with weeks of goo seeping out of one’s eyes and the worse sore throat of your life—but “it’s not covid” because they tested negative once on a rapid test (cough, it’s probably covid, cough). In this strange realm of “anything but covid” (ABC), healthcare and hospitals are also pretending like airborne contagious diseases don’t exist by not testing, not masking, and not cleaning their air. (If that feels like a human rights violation, that’s because it is.)
Seeing other people out in public in masks is a rare and fleeting experience, even in Colorado. I don’t have a single friend in person that I’ve known for more than 6 months who still masks and takes basic precautions. I only have a small handful of long-distance friends who still do. My discipline is weak and wavering more than it has at any point since the pandemic began. I’ve never felt so alone.
Yet what has stayed the same at a societal level includes: daily mass shootings (that often don’t even make the news), bizarre and damaging weather, fires, and smoke due to climate change, the cost of living and housing continuing to rise exponentially for no reason other than profit and greed, and so on. Overall, 2023 is shaping up to be consistently bad on a country level in the United States. It seems that my despair in January was warranted.
So this past half year should have also sucked for me! And while I am still single (although I admit, it’s much less confusing than dating these days), a lot has otherwise changed in my personal life—and mostly in a good way?? I’m still rather confused about it all, to be honest.
Since my viral tweet bemoaning the future as “a void of futile nothingness” and ranting about how everyone in my field (somewhere where journalism and science overlap) was starting a Substack, I went from revamping my resume and applying to jobs in the first week of January, to interviewing for relevant roles, having to turn a prestigious offer down, hitting rock bottom mentally, and then interviewing for and getting another, better-for-me offer and accepting it, all in less than three months.
I’ve since started the new job, and navigated all of the things that come with that transition in the U.S., like major changes in health insurance and retirement savings options, as well as the novel commute, culture, and people of a new organization. I’m still catching up on many loose ends, various to-do items, and things that have gotten lost along the way! I have a nagging feeling I have still forgotten to text someone (or several someones) back.
I’m just absolutely flabbergasted that I’m sitting here on July 3rd, writing this reflection article for a (fairly casual) Substack, simply because I *want to be writing something* for public consumption again, after leaving a job where I was required to write 1-2 pieces a week about mostly depressing environmental science and news. I’m now a month and a half into a new job that I legitimately like, in a field I am passionate about (air quality!), with a supportive supervisor (who also masks!), and lots of opportunities for growth.
I have a real handle on my mental health again, which is leaps and bounds from the incredibly dangerous place it was in January and February. While I have gained some weight, my overall health is better (I hiked 16 miles over two days this weekend and it felt easy)! I’ve also made several new in-person and long-distance friends, who have helped me successfully negotiate my new job offer, gone with me on new adventures, and spent hours making me laugh and chatting about anything and everything.
And while I still get intense anxiety when I try to write something more serious for fun (my music writing is languishing), and my running to-do list freaks me out because I can only accomplish a short list of things every day, I am no longer completely burnt out. I know what happiness feels like again. I have done bold and courageous things like ask for a counter offer at my (now old) job, (unsuccessfully) attempt to negotiate my rent, and choose to end things with someone after a couple weeks of dating because they didn’t respect my health needs.
I’m flabbergasted I have done all of these things and am writing about them today, because, for most of the past six months, I was scared out of my mind. It didn’t help that I was depressed and fear was in the driver’s seat most days. I was constantly having to wrestle back control of the steering wheel, to give myself or a situation the benefit of the doubt.
When I turned down the first job offer this year, I was so scared there wouldn’t be another. When I asked for clarification in a situationship this spring, I was terrified I and/or our friendship wouldn’t recover from that rejection. When I accidentally started a big fight with a best friend, I was scared our friendship wouldn’t heal. When I took the new job, I was petrified I’d made the wrong decision and would lose everything! And I’ve been dreading the idea that my health will only decline and there’s nothing I can do, as aches and pains develop, probably from sitting too much (because according to Instagram and TikTok, apparently a woman’s body falls apart immediately past age 30). It's even been in the little things, as getting through each workday or leaving the apartment some days has felt impossible.
So it really pisses me off when the bots and trolls and whoever else come after the covid conscious community for “living in fear.” Every single day for the past six months, I have worked my ass off to NOT “live in fear”—mostly regarding things that had little to do with COVID-19. And what I’ve realized is not new, it’s not rocket science, it’s not even my saying: Be afraid, but do it anyway. Because if you have respect for the SARS-CoV-2 virus, and know what it can do to even a healthy, vaccinated body, you should have a healthy dose of fear in 2023. You should live with fear every day—but it doesn’t have to stop you from living your very valuable life.
Be afraid, but do it anyway.*
(*Disclaimer: This in no way is a green light to take unnecessary and known risks of contracting or spreading COVID-19. This also is only my lived experience and perspective, and will apply quite differently or not at all to those who are disabled, ill, high risk, etc., especially those with Long Covid. Please always know and respect your physical and mental limits and needs.)
In practice, this looks different in different situations. Sometimes it means making a task easier, shorter, and/or breaking it into little parts. It can mean getting yourself a little treat, as a carrot to entice you to complete a scary task. Sometimes it’s just doing the next best thing, if you’ve messed up or aren’t sure you’re on the right path. It could mean challenging the narrative that you’re being told on social media or elsewhere, and trying something that goes against assumptions. And if you’re simply not able to do something, it can mean asking for help or letting it slide. Letting yourself rest, but not giving up. The fear is usually there for a reason, but it doesn’t always have your best interests in mind.
It’s also important to regularly ask: Do I actually want this? Will this actually benefit me or make me happy? Or is this what other people want for me / think I should do? A therapist I saw briefly earlier this year when I was really struggling with a job decision also challenged me by asking: What is the cost of not doing something? What do you lose by not taking up a new opportunity, asking a tough question, or negotiating for what you need?
The fear will always be there. It’s a good thing: it means there’s something important at stake, whether that’s avoiding contracting a life-changing virus or asking for more money at work so you can pay your bills. The goal is to know when and how to push through, bit by bit, and/or to learn to live with it, and not in it. Fear should be your steady passenger, not in the driver’s seat: that should be you, at the wheel! That might mean getting help through therapy, medication, or other forms of support. You don’t need to do it all alone.
The world is a terrifying place, especially in 2023. We’re in year four of the pandemic, and it just keeps going. But what I’ve realized through all of this recent change in my life is that I can’t stay in stasis, I can no longer hunker down and hope for this all to pass. I have to recognize what is worth fighting for in my life, to take certain risks in my career, to value what I have instead of thinking about what I don’t, and remember that I have the agency and power to do my best to take care of my physical and mental health.
My birthday at the end last month felt like a turning point. I celebrated with friends outdoors over the weekend, and also went on a short solo trip to hike in the wildflower-covered hills of Crested Butte, Colorado (where the photos are from). It felt like I celebrated a lot, perhaps overindulged (at least my budget felt some pain!), and I thought celebrating my 33rd birthday felt a bit overrated. But when I think of it instead as celebrating all that I have survived and accomplished in the past half year? That deserved every bit of joy and happiness I sought out and savored this past week.
Fear is a part of life, it will always be—and with COVID-19 in the mix, the stakes are as high as they come. We are right to be afraid. But at least for me, I’m doing my best each day to live not in fear, but with it—and also with hope, and joy, and happiness, and anger, and sadness, etc. For living with all of these feelings is an integral part of the human experience. Just don’t let any one of them take your place at the wheel.
Yours,
Kelsey