24 Years In, A Reflection In A Time Full of Chaos

I turned 24 years old today. I’ve never been one to make a big deal about my birthday. As long as I get to spend time with some of my favorite people and have a relaxing day, that’s good enough for me. Anything on top of that is an added bonus.

But my 24th birthday is unlike any birthday I’ve ever had before, and I assume many that have March/April/May birthdays know where I’m coming from.

This year, I don’t get to invite a group of friends out to a birthday dinner in Georgetown. I don’t get to have a birthday pregame and then go out to one of my favorite bars afterwards. Any sense of normalcy that I, or anyone else had, has been thrown out the window in recent weeks, and that certainly applies to having a birthday during this time.

Being cooped up in home instead, I’ve had a lot of opportunity during this social distancing period to be alone with my thoughts. The coronavirus outbreak has permeated every aspect of our world, and has caused me to reflect on a lot of things. It’s also brought about a range of emotions that I’ve had to learn to manage.

I suspect that I’m not alone in dealing with the fear that comes from not knowing if I’m next to get infected; the anger that comes from watching Donald Trump and the Republican Party prioritize the markets over human lives; the hopelessness that hits at different points where I think to myself, “Will things ever truly go back to normal?”.

If you’re reading this article, thanks. I hope that for most who read this, they can relate to some of my words and take comfort in knowing that they’re not alone in feeling what they feel. Mostly, I just want to put some words on paper (on screen?) and take this moment to breathe and think on my 24th birthday.

If 23 ended with a whimper, then 24 has begun with a wail. Yesterday, the 24-hour death toll from the novel coronavirus surpassed 1,850 in the United States, a record for any country in a single day. While there are signs of improvement in some areas, with New York showing possible signs of plateauing in the near future, there are also signs of conditions worsening in other areas, such as where I live, in DC.

We are going to be in this for a while longer, and thousands more are going to die. We have already surpassed the death toll from 9/11, and on Sunday, the United States surgeon general, Jerome Adams, said this week will be “our Pearl Harbor moment…only it’s not going to be localized, it’s going to be happening all over the country,”

I would feel much better about all of this if we had a federal government that we could rely on to make sound, rational decisions based on the advice of public health officials, not people like Rudy Giuliani or Peter Navarro who have no medical expertise whatsoever.

Instead, we have a president advocating for the use of an anti-malaria drug that is not proven to cure coronavirus and has potentially fatal side effects. Trump is also working to open up the economy as soon as possible, rather than err on the side of caution like experts like Dr. Anthony Fauci are urging at this time. Thousands have died already, and thousands more will continue to die if Trump acts too soon. But yet the Republican Party is obsessed with downplaying this virus, and continues to turn a blind eye towards this crisis that is affecting millions. Anything to get Trump re-elected. Human lives be damned.

I’m angry. Angry at Trump supporters who have enabled this behavior for the last four years and will continue to plague this country long after Trump leaves office. Angry at the Republican Party, who, for all the pearl-clutching they do about being pro-life, continue to put American lives at risk, with the most recent example being the conservative majority of the Supreme Court striking down a motion to expand absentee voting in Wisconsin by a few days that would have allowed people to continue to socially distance and stay out of harm’s way, rather than risk increased exposure to infection.

I’m sick of the hypocrisy from the right. I’m sick of the gaslighting and the manipulation of the American voting system. There doesn’t seem to be an end in sight, and that’s perhaps the most frustrating thing. What is happening in Wisconsin is only a preview of what could happen in our general election in November. Republicans will continue to suppress votes and do whatever they can to work the system in their favor. The scariest part about that is it has worked so far, and continues to work even as I write this.

When I’m not angry about our government, I fear for my health & safety and the health & safety of my family and friends. Trump is right about one thing when he calls COVID-19 “the invisible enemy”. For all I know, I could have it right now and not be showing symptoms. The fear of the unknown is something that has always affected me, and that especially holds true now. It’s hard to deal with the constant threat of being exposed to the virus anywhere I go.

I fear for my mom, who is working overtime at Whole Foods back on the Cape to support my family while my dad works to find employment again after being recently laid off. She is on the front lines of this stuff, and her risk of exposure is exponentially higher than mine. I worry about her constantly, and being hundreds of miles away from my family during this time kills me. I wish there was more I could do for my family right now, and the feeling of helplessness, in a word, sucks.

At the same time, the appreciation and admiration I have for my mom has never been higher, and her work ethic serves as an example for me to emulate as I move up in my career. It’s these small bright spots that I have tried like hell to focus on during this crisis, but it’s tough when there is so much wrong in our world today to distract me from these moments of hope.

I’ve always felt that in times of adversity we learn the most about ourselves and what we are made of. I’ve had a lot of time at home to think about where I stand in life. What I’ve accomplished. What I want to accomplish still.

I’ve long felt that whatever I do in my life, I want to make a difference. I’ve been tossing that around in my head a lot after seeing the failure of our federal government to adequately address this crisis and do more to prevent the loss of so many lives that so easily could have been saved if more caution had been thrown to the wind earlier by Trump and his administration. You know, if they had actually listened to the science, rather than their own selfish opinions.

This crisis is making me re-think my priorities in life, and helping define a clearer path for me moving forward. That’s exciting, but doesn’t come without some uncertainty. I’m coming to grips with the fact that this uncertainty is just a constant at this stage in our lives, especially as a young professional looking to find a career that fits me both personally and professionally.

Life in DC has come with plenty of bumps in the road. Each bump has taught me something about myself that has helped me become more comfortable with who I am, and who I still want to become. I’m grateful for that. Learning how to take these small victories out of hard times like these is important, and being able to step back and reflect on my growth, even in a time where I feel scared and unsure in the face of a global pandemic, is key in continuing to grow as an individual.

I’ve learned to become comfortable with being uncomfortable, and that holds true now more than ever, as I adjust to a new way of life of being primarily homebound during this pandemic. But one day, this too shall pass, and I’m confident that I will be better off for having gone through at the start of Year 24.