I Had 2021 Planned Out Until…

I thought I had this year planned out until I tested positive before year 2020 ends. Hello, 2021.

Sore throat. Just that. Unfortunately, the virus that causes it turned out to be the you-know-what: Covid-19.

I didn’t expect it, honestly. I thought it was just a simple sore throat. This virus has it’s own way of surprising me, I suppose.

The moment my housemate lost her sense of smell, she knew that the virus kicked in already. I didn’t share the same thoughts. And I was wrong. But I wasn’t alarmed. I wasn’t afraid. I was calm because it was not as scary as it was portrayed in the news. Plus the fact that my housemate is already panicking and stressed out, I didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

The hardest thing to do is informing the office and a few people I made close contact for the past week. As if getting the virus is not enough, you have to disclose it to other people, get all of them feel sorry for you and worry about themselves at the same time. The entire office was quarantined and tested along with a couple of friends I met a few days ago.

Fortunately, they all tested negative. Oh, the havoc it created!

Then there’s the stigma. People are afraid to come near you. Protocols and rules are set to the highest standard to contain the virus. Some people will come to you bearing sympathy and promises to be of help whatsoever. The truth is, they will most likely decline when you ask help on bringing or getting something for you. Can you take it against them? No. This fucking virus is highly contagious. You are in quarantine for a reason. You can’t go out and no one is allowed to get near you.

It wasn’t until I tested positive again after 10 days of quarantine that I begin to feel scared. My mind went nuts. As much as I feel tired and bored of the rat race, I find myself excited to get back to my work routine–except that I still can’t.

I realized that this virus has not only creeped into my respiratory system but it penetrated and crippled my emotional and mental state as well. It didn’t helped that I am in house isolation–my housemate went to the hospital when she started to have difficulty in breathing–I have no one to talk to. All of my interactions are online and they are not helpful for a person whose top love language is physical touch. At that morning when I read the message from DHA, I just want to be hugged tight. Yakap lang, gusto ko ng mahigpit na yakap. I can’t even get that.

I cried out of desperation and uncertainty. I am desperate to get this virus off my system and was upset that it is still clinging into me like an ex-lover. I have no strength to do anything whatsoever. My mind wanders nowhere. I read emails and continue to work on reconciliations. After 5, I indulge my mind into Netflix series and read comedy posts on social media to laugh it off. I kept thinking to write my thoughts away but that didn’t happen either.

Until this evening, when I read an email from HR that I would get a salary cut for two months, I find myself writing my thoughts down. I need to process this, or else, I will break down. I’m shaking, literally. This is the news that I am afraid of. With the uncertainty as to when am I going to be back in the office, I am quite expecting that it will have an impact. As to how, well, it was made clear today.

Although I am working from home, the company has to assume that I will not be as productive as when I am in the office. Thus, they have sent a cute little consent letter that gives the illusion of choice: whether to give consent on salary cut or not. As if it will not possibly cause your job if you don’t. There were no heads up, no discussions, no explanations. It is what it is. After all, they have a business to run.

Quite frankly, I think this salary cut thing is well and fair. Because from the company’s perspective, one shall get what has been delivered. But from the receiving end, it is demotivating. Just because one can work from home doesn’t mean he is not sick. The news of being positive is already messing with my sanity. Having salary cut is wrecking havoc in my already messed up mental state.

I hate this feeling: terrified, uncertain, helpless, lost, despair, afraid. I really have to get out of this. Give me a year or two, I will no longer be at anyone’s disposal but my own. And I will get that hug, lots of it. I can’t get it here but home.

**28.03.2021 UPDATE: I won’t edit this blog for accountability and see where my beliefs are lying that time. I was wrong in the second and third to the last paragraph written above: I didn’t get a salary cut because I am working from home. I get it because there were months that they missed out last year. You see, I am coming from a “victim” perspective. I am overcoming this mindset little by little. You’ll see in my next post. 😉