I mentioned my mom was on chemo in February, when we all started worrying about the coronavirus, and that I was worried about catching a flight home to see her in the first place. Well, I did catch a flight to see her back in March because she'd been released from the hospital as there was nothing they could do for her anymore. She died a week later and I've been stuck in Serbia ever since.
That week was filled with just about every inconvenience you can imagine, because the hospital staff was busy with COVID and all we had to go by were anti-anxiety meds and painkillers from the store, for a person dying of cancer, and then there were all the general inconveniences of taking care of a bedridden and mostly non-verbal person. Watching her health decline every day was a mind trip, the doctors implied we had months and she was able to talk and have meaningful time with my brother and my sister up until the night I came. Add to that watching the news to stay informed, watching incompetent liars mishandle this health crisis in every possible way, while doctors are falling apart at the seams to the point where we have to beg on the phone for someone to take 15 minutes out of their day to try and come over and give her IV, so that she could try and live another day. I'm so full of anger, I can feel a firm ball of pure fire growing in my stomach every night when I try to go to sleep. I almost don't talk to friends online because they'll ask me how I've been. Frankly I'm not sure if I should even type it out here, even though the thread title says bitch and whine so everyone's been warned about the contents. Not receiving a hug from anyone I don't live with in months is a bitch. I hadn't seen my friends in so long before this, and seeing them twice (when the number of cases in my city had dropped to zero for three weeks straight) and not being able to come near them or touch them was very difficult. Seeing my BFF and not running into her arms for the first time ever after 15 years must have been the weirdest experience of my life.
Flights to possible transfer spots started running a few days ago but of course they may be shut down again in a week or two when I am able to catch one. I've been apart from my husband for almost four months (and our marriage wasn't a 10/10 before this whole business either), and when I come back I won't be able to see all the people I'm missing because we moved cities while I was stuck here. I'm supposed to start a business with my brother and my sister, doing a job I hate (but the only job I'm halfway qualified for), and I'm feeling the exact same lack of motivation and lowered productivity as everyone else is, not to mention that we're still not earning any money whatsoever, so not even that is a motivating factor. Looking for unqualified work/a part time job back in Norway is probably not a picnic now, either. Being in law-mandated self-isolation for 28 days brought out some strange effects, I had a couple of panic attacks going out when that whole business ended, but right now at least I feel mildly okay about that.
I feel like I have absolutely zero things going for me, that there's no area in my life that I can point to and say "well, at least I have that one sorted". My mental health is in absolute shambles, I have almost no older family members left (down to one grandma that's also bedridden now), I have friends I can't see, I have a husband who's unequipped to live with someone whose entire personality is just two or three untreated mental illnesses stitched together, I have a temporary residence permit in a country I'm stranded away from, I don't have a career or any life plans or even a paid job right now, and the one hobby that manages to lift my spirits a little is dead until 2021, if it can even come back that soon, or at all. I could say I still have my health, but that can change in two seconds if one unmasked asshole decides to sneeze in my direction in the grocery store.
There, that's a novel. Fuck you, COVID-19. Also, fuck cancer.