Stage 1: My house is on fire - We were struck with fear and loneliness and trauma from the rising deaths around us. We lived near a hospital and we heard sirens throughout the day and night and saw Covid patients being carried in. We escaped to nearby parks not known to many others, scared to even touch the trees. My daughter got there and just starting running and running.
Stage 2: Breathing - We all felt so alone, suffocating and claustrophobic. Every day is the same.
Stage 3: Breaking news - Endless headlines flashing all around us while the elite sequestered in their big houses and boats. Breaking news was a state of being rather than something that happened now and then. Even moments of peace were tainted by the guilt of even taking those moments and having that privilege.
Stage 4: Transitions - I am changing profoundly and my family is as well. We walk through the doorways of the house over and over and I begin to see myself again through the fear, through the suffocation. We transform, and we become ghosts of our old selves.
Stage 5: Horizons - We look to the future with a more mature vision of our histories. My daughter has nightmares, but at least I’m there to hug her when she wakes up.