Self-Isolation Thoughts

I am writing this from bed on Day 9 of self-isolation (because I’m smart). I hope you’re doing well.

I think the days inside are starting to get to me. Before the pandemic it was starting to feel like I was getting my shit together. I was carving out the beginnings of a career in the film industry for myself, I had two part-time jobs to keep me afloat until that happened, and I had summer gigs to look forward to that would get me ahead of my finances. Well, like everyone else on the planet, my schedule’s been cleared for me. No work, no money, future gigs cancelled. I still have work to do from cancelling my own pilot, which I suppose is good for keeping myself busy, I just have nothing to show for it, and possibly never will.

I don’t regret my decision. It was the right one. And staying inside as much as possible indefinitely is also the right decision. And overall while I’m dealing with the same worries as everyone else in the world about humanity’s future, I’m okay. But just tonight, alone in my room with nothing to keep my thoughts from wandering, I started feeling not-so-happy. I don’t know if it’s delayed disappointment that Super Roommates encountered so many worst-case scenarios combined into one day, or if it’s just the result of being cooped up inside for so long. Anyway, I suddenly feel how completely precarious everything is. Money, happiness, life; it can all disappear so quickly, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I suppose that’s why I like writing. When things are good I can capture the feeling in words. When things are bad I can escape into my writing. It’s one of those things that suits any occasion. But in terms of my big bad book, I’ve been struggling a bit. I wrote about my issue with it here. So I haven’t really even had that to turn to.

I’ll be okay in the long run. Nothing really bad has happened to me yet, and in fact plenty of good things have improved my life in the last few months. But sometimes it’s nice to just sit in my feelings of not-happiness and ruminate, you know? And when I’m done thinking about the precariousness of everything, I’ll be sure to appreciate what I have that much more.

Stay healthy. Stay safe. Stay isolated.

Author: precariouswriter

I live in Calgary, Canada where I was born and raised, but I lived in Winchester, England for three years while in university. When I was fourteen, I decided there weren’t enough books in the world and set out to make more. Since then, I’ve been writing non-stop and aim to work in the book industry. I have two blogs: PrecariousWriter.com is my personal blog where I'll write about anything. PrecariousReader.com is book and writing-related posts including reviews, poems, short stories and articles.

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