Doctors warn us to watch out for the following COVID-19 symptoms: coughing, shortness of breath, loss of taste and smell, and fatigue. Which antibiotics do we take to keep the inner turmoil at bay, though? Is recovery possible?
My family and I did not take the virus very seriously at first. The word “pandemic” was something unheard of, and the two weeks off from school was something of a blessing to an introvert like me.
Cases would rise each day and my family and I would continue to live in a little bubble, sheltered and mostly unaffected. Life was comfortable. It’s easy to look at the situation through rose-colored glasses and faux optimism when you can afford to.
We were not afraid of the virus, just inconvenienced.
However, the short-lived peace ended when my dad started showing symptoms one day, then confined in my room the next. Not long after, I would test positive as well.
The unspoken COVID-19 symptoms
I had an asymptomatic case, but the paranoia of having COVID-19 was as present as ever.
The changes in lifestyle and routine were slow yet startling, nonetheless. My mom, a corporate worker, assumed the role of two parents of three children, generations apart. Our helpers stopped coming one day, and we would rely on my aunts to bring us food occasionally. The lines between home and work would eventually blur, and daily routines would dissolve.
There was no privacy between my family and I. I would see them everyday, be with them every minute. While it was alright at first, each little quirk and mannerism would get on each others’ nerves. I’d see myself go through a whole spectrum of emotions throughout the day over the smallest of things, from frustration to embarrassment. It was like being chipped away, piece by piece.
I tried to bury myself in work to keep my mind off of things, but eventually, I lost interest in what I loved to do the most. I constantly evaded my friends’ attempts to talk, until one day, my phone grew quiet, and I was merely a shadow of my old self.
Eventually though, we made it through. My dad got better, and now, life is as normal as it can be in these unprecedented, extraordinary times.
Now here I am, nearly a year after. I won’t lie and say that the whole ordeal is a thing of the past. However, what I’ve come to accept is that life goes on, with or without you. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but you eventually learn to accept things beyond your power.
The whole experience truly puts you into perspective, makes you really feel like an infinitesimal speck in the unfolding plans of the universe.
With this, it’s easy to feel lost and powerless, and there’s no saying when you’ll ever be able to rise up again. There is no secret, easy way to do this—finding inner strength is a process that can take entire lifetimes. The best thing you can do for yourself is to try.
A year later and I’m still trying to recover and feel like myself again. It’s a slow process to stitch yourself back together, with all the sutures and reopened wounds serving as an uncomfortable reminder.
I will never forget, and that’s not entirely a bad thing. These are still distressing times, but now, I have things to look forward to, things I want to continue fighting for. Do you
This article is also published in The Benildean Volume 7 Issue No. 2: Restored.