The Solace in Words

Bethany Howell (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

COVID-19 stole many things from us. From the great importance of face-to-face contact with loved ones to the simple pleasure of going to the local library, many activities once commonplace were taken away this past year. Even with all of these sacrifices, I would say my greatest personal loss was the beauty of possibility.

 

I had lost my chance to meet an old friend at a café, to discover a new passion roaming the paths of a festival, to find the love of my life walking to my next class. We all know the old adage “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone,” and yet I never truly felt it until I lost my ability to fantasize about possibilities. I realized quite quickly that I relied on this romanticization of day-to-day life to feel good about myself and my place in the world. I also realized that, with these moments now taken away from me, I would have trouble gaining happiness. 

 

Not only had COVID-19 stolen my life, it had also stolen my hope. 

 

Sometime, after months of – in all honesty – doing nothing productive and wallowing in my own grief, I came to realize that something must change; I had to seize my own form of hope from the world around me, no matter how bleak it appeared through the lens of my depression. I had to find something – anything – that would bring me joy. 

 

This is when I discovered writing. It started out with a few simple poems jotted down in a notes app about what I missed pre-pandemic. This small creative outlet quickly grew to a revival of an old blog account where I could post the emotions I was finally able to put into words. I began to post not just about my life, but also my past. I wrote some poems that I would happily show my parents and others about personal topics that still stung to the touch. No matter what, I wrote poems that I was proud of above all else. 

 

In the middle of 2021, over a year since what I refer to as “The Great Loss of Hope,” I applied for a blog-writing position at Low Entropy. I knew that, if I got in, it would give me the chance to share my writing and, hopefully, use it to help others. I jumped at the chance, eagerly and with the gusto of a child. As you can probably guess, I did end up becoming part of the Low Entropy team. 

 

Many people say that the most difficult part of writing is starting, and I fully agree. That blank page can be daunting, especially when all you allow yourself to create is perfection. Through writing, I discovered how my perfectionistic tendencies have stifled my creativity. My ability to express myself has always been guarded behind those high walls of self-protective instinct, and it took months of private writing to finally break through. 

 

Though I can proudly say that now I am able to write freely, that was not always the case. One small thing I can thank COVID-19 for is giving me the time to experiment freely with myself and my writing; I guess that proves that even the biggest challenges can be used for good.

 

I cannot, in good conscience, say that writing completely solved my problems, as I still find myself reminiscing on the past instead of living in the moment; however, I can say that it has helped me finally defeat my fear of failure and that, in itself, has brought me a new form of hope. I now have a healthy hope for my future with writing and a hope for my future with Low Entropy. 

 

This post is not meant to be an advertisement to write, nor is it a statement about the therapeutic benefit of creativity (though I can vouch for it!). I have written this as proof to you – and myself – that there is a bit of light at the end of every tunnel, no matter how long and dark it seems. 

 

None of us could have predicted any of this at the start of 2020 and, though it has been quite the ride, I am glad to say that we have made it through and that right there is something of which to be proud.

 

 

My name is Bethany Howell and I am a third-year university student majoring in psychology and minoring in family and child studies. I have a passion for writing and mental health and my ultimate goal since age 13 has been to make a difference in the world through helping others, which is how I ended up here at Low Entropy!

Beyond Difficult

It’s all too easy to ignore others’ struggles. Marginalization is real, and it is perpetuated when the needs of smaller, disadvantaged populations are deprioritized in favour of the overriding concerns (or comforts) of those in power. Low Entropy Volunteer Writer Elizabeth Atkinson understands this all too well.

 

Let’s just call a spade a spade. Living with a disability is difficult. Living with a disability during a global pandemic when you are a high-risk individual? Beyond difficult. It takes a different kind of strength that most people won’t understand. This is not to dismiss the issues that healthy people without disabilities have had during this pandemic. I do not mean to suggest that the pandemic has been easy on anyone. Everyone has their own personal struggles, and being a high-risk person during a global pandemic is my struggle. Everyday I battle fibromyalgia, rheumatoid arthritis and a pituitary adenoma, as well as multiple autoimmune disorders that require me to take immunosuppressants. This makes me very high risk for illness in general, let alone COVID-19. 

 

Isolation is one of the major issues chronically ill people are facing during the pandemic. Staying home and staying safe is something everyone should try to do, because when this illness spreads, you may or may not know if you are a carrier. Staying home to stay safe is easier said than done. Some people tell me to “get out for a walk,” or “go for a drive.” This is also easier said than done. Personally, getting out for a walk can be an ordeal, depending on the day, the weather, my energy levels, whether or not I have access to my walking supports, etc. Plus, depending on where you live, getting out for a walk may surround you with people, making social distancing an unviable option. For example, I live in a crowded area, and leaving the house for a quick stroll surrounds me with people who may or may not be wearing masks and respecting personal boundaries. I also cannot drive due to the side effects of my medications. These restrictions compound COVID-19-related isolation, which leads to feeling trapped by your illness more so than usual. Sometimes what works for healthy people without disabilities does not work for people in the chronic illness community. 

 

Living through this global pandemic while having a disability has also brought on a lot of mixed emotions. Fewer people say hurtful comments such as, “I wish I could stay home all day and not have to work.” I guess some people are realizing that having to stay home is not the same as getting to stay home. One is a lack of choice, while the other is considered a privilege. However, I would take back this minor satisfaction for people to be able to live freely. I experience another mixed emotion seeing many jobs being worked remotely. Many organizations have expressed interest in keeping certain jobs as remote work even after the worst of this pandemic has passed. I am very happy more remote work jobs are available and it is being seen as a more viable option. However, I can’t help but be frustrated that, after years of begging for this issue to be looked at, it took healthy people without disabilities needing a solution for most workplaces to come up with one. I can’t help but admit that it does sting that the disably community’s cries for accomodation were not enough in the past. 

 

Other solutions to problems people with disabilities face, such as contactless delivery, the ease of ordering groceries and having them delivered to the door, etc., are all good changes that I hope stay in place post-pandemic. While the systems in place are certainly not perfect, they are helping make staying isolated easier. One way these systems can be improved is having groceries delivered to the door, instead of to the lobby, if you live in a multi-unit building. I have to frequently put in the note to the delivery person, “Please bring to door – disabled and cannot carry groceries.” Even with this added note, sometimes my groceries are still dropped off in the lobby and I have to come up with creative ways to get them upstairs to my fridge. Often, but not always, I can rely on the kindness of strangers. This is

not ideal, as it takes away feelings of independence. Additionally, it is hard to rely on strangers when you are supposed to be keeping your distance. 

 

One of the worst parts of this pandemic has been the lack of consideration for high-risk people. The number of people who say or write insensitive comments such as, “Oh, I am okay, this illness only affects people with underlying conditions or old people,” is astounding. This complete disregard for my life and others just like me is so widespread and so hurtful. It comes from family, from friends and from strangers, and reading it never gets easier. It has led me to lose multiple friends and other people I previously viewed as support, as they relentlessly made their opinions on where people with disabilities land on the social ladder very well known. The more people think they’re immune from serious consequences due to the virus, the longer the lockdowns and isolation periods will be for people who cannot safely take the same risks as others. It is a reminder that I am viewed as less than others because my body does not work in the same ways. 

 

All in all, I hope this pandemic teaches people a valuable lesson about treating disabled people with kindness, compassion and accommodation. I hope people remember how isolation and lack of freedoms can make a person feel deeply restricted. More than anything, I hope people remember that everyone is facing a struggle, and now is the time to be kind and considerate. Disabled people, just like me, deserve better than to feel like they come in last.

 

Thank you for sharing your story and perspective with us, Elizabeth. If you’ve got a story to tell, bring it to a Conscious Connections meeting, or tell it on any one of our social media channels.