The worst part of COVID is…well, it’s really hard to choose, isn’t it? Not seeing friends. No travel. Not seeing family. Not celebrating life’s moments together. But for me, it’s my dreams.
Since early last summer, I’ve had recurring dreams that I’m out with my friends, and my kids are out and about with their friends, having a lovely little time. Actually out, having a blast, laughing, connecting, playing, and just hanging out. Completely chill, positive vibes.
And then I wake up. And I start sobbing.
When I wake up, I get hit full-on with the complete stark divide between what I just dreamt….and what I’m living. I haven’t seen friends at all, except over zoom, and a couple of times where I’ve been able to do the in-person distanced thing in the park. My oldest hasn’t seen her friends at all. Like not one single time. And my youngest has seen a friend maybe four times.
I wake up from these dreams, and the feel-good vibes evaporate instantly and I just start crying. I can’t help it. It’s just a natural reaction to missing people so much, and being so sad for my kids. And then to distract myself from the crying, I start up some really dumb show on Hulu for a couple of hours until I’m tired enough to lull myself back to sleep. Because when I try to just go back to sleep, I get even sadder about how I might have another good dream, which will leave me even more reeling when next I wake as to how distant the joy of friends is from my current state.