I am beginning to forget who I was

Written on
Contribution by
Pooja Priyamvada

I live with Fibromyalgia and Chronic High-Functioning Depression, the pandemic made the management of both, conditions tough, especially due to my single-parent status and schooling shifting to homes (still is) in India. 2020 began as a usual year for me, no drumrolls, no fanfare. The usual lonely New year, the usual academic year-end for the young one, and a brief family trip to Nainital thrown in February to get away from the monotony.

We returned and all hell broke loose in Delhi with the Delhi riots and then in a few weeks, Corona hit the scene. By mid-March, there were whispers of the government deciding something big- it came on March 23rd, one day long Janta Curfew and then....a word I had heard bit never imagined could be so heavy LOCKDOWN. The other day I was reminiscing the life that changed on that fateful morning.

I haven't written much in the last year, yes I did attend webinars and webinars and upgrade all my skills, make myself useful to whatever social work or activism was possible online, and yes SURVIVE along with writing one book and translating THREE!

I don't know any longer what is normal, the one that was or this new normal? Will life be ever the same? This has certainly been a long road through mental health struggle and resilience, logistic difficulties and survival.

I wonder.

I am beginning to forget who I was.

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