Just One Day

It was a difficult Sunday night: my daughter — who lives across the world in Sweden, became infected with the coronavirus and I had no way to get to her; an old white man broke into my apartment and tried to kill me because of an anti-Trump post I placed on Facebook; and a group of doctors attacked me in my garage in effort to force a tracking chip device under my skin. When I awoke from these nightmares, filled with panic and dread, I struggled to make out what was real and what wasn’t. While attempting to regain control over my surroundings, I scrolled through Facebook — a terrible idea: more people dead, an update on two murders in my community, and political mayhem — fear, hate and despair with every scroll. By the morning, I was exhausted, jittery, and messaged my daughter (just to make sure she was feeling well. Or so were my intentions.) The conversation went like this:

Me: Hi Honey, how are you? Still feeling well and staying safe?

Daughter: Yep, how are you?

Me: I watched this video clip where they are talking about forced vaccinations and placing chips in people to track them for corona. The moment that happens, I’m packing my bags and leaving the country.

Daughter: Mom, I think you should go on a news hiatus.

Me: And did you hear, over 10,000 deaths in New York City — horrible! And they are talking about another sweep coming through in summer. You didn’t answer me — are you feeling well?

Daughter: Yes mom, feeling fine. Stop reading the news for just 24-hours.

And I’d suggest deleting your Facebook app on your phone also.

Me: What?! Delete my Facebook app!? Oh my God, I will die without my Facebook app.

Daughter: Just one day, mom. Do it as a favor to me. You can redownload it tomorrow morning. Then you can just read a nice book and drink some tea and not read anything about corona. Just ONE DAY.

Me: Can I drink coffee instead of tea?

Daughter: Sure. And no googling either.

Me: No googling? I seriously have a lot of anxiety thinking about that.

Well, I’m still going to be taking my vitamin c, and zinc, because they say boosting our immune system is the best way to handle this. Are you taking yours?

Daughter: Goodness

Me: I’m afraid I will miss something very important — something that requires me to take action.

Daughter: Yea…I think you’ll be alright for one single day.

Me: Okay. Hold on. I’m about to do something crazy… (deleting my Facebook app)

Me: It’s gone! :(

Daughter: Well done. Proud of you.

Monday wasn’t excellent, but it was a lot better than Sunday. I slept without nightmares, and come Tuesday, I was able to have a conversation with my daughter about other things — like planning for her upcoming college graduation and her move to France, thereafter. For 24 hours, I was able to pull myself out of the cyclone that has become our reality. I’m nearing 48 hours of my hiatus now — checking news updates no more than twice a day and keeping my Facebook app deleted (for the time being). The more hours I have away from it, the more peace I feel and the more meaningful communication I can have with people I care about — being more of the person I want to be. So, if they come to get me for chip implantation, or an old Trump loving man breaks into my house to punish me for my political views, or God forbid- someone I love falls ill to the coronavirus, I might actually be in a stable place in my mind and body to address these (unlikely) situations. The pull is strong folks- I know, and there will be no shortage of terror coming through our news feeds for some time to come. My suggestion: Give yourself just 24 hours. Read a book, have a cup of tea (or coffee), have a phone conversation with a loved one. This is where we gain our strength and hope.