A New Normal

Los Angeles, California

In a favorite book, Kathleen and Frank by Christopher Isherwood which combined letters of and commentary about his parents, Frank wrote to his wife from the front during World War One that he could easily tolerate his enemies. It was his friends that gave him trouble and pause. To quote another Christopher, my good friend, Why do we want to fight with our friends? That's why we have families.

I am wondering if one of the mental health issues that we were nonspecifically warned about is in our relationships and friendships. Joel and I made it handily through the two and a half years of lockdown and the uneven emergence after vaccines, boosters, and Omicron variants. We are in an ever-diminishing group who did not, that we know of, contract Covid. My friends fall into both categories of infected and dodged it, by about half and half.

I don't see evidence that any of my friends have pandemic-related mental health issues. Yes, we all admit, the isolation was hard. I went it alone. Others had spouses; still others small pods. In a very small group exhibiting stupidity, a few of my friends acted as if there were no virus whatsoever, or at least not one that they would allow to cramp their style. They're the double-infected group, determined to be afflicted with every or every other variant that comes down the pike. Of the groups who sheltered in place, I'm not sure which of the three situations: alone; with spouse; with pod, would be the hardest. Being on my own, especially not seeing Joel for months, brought isolation and a great deal of longing. But it also was a highly productive time for me. I meditated and worked out daily, wrote a lot, and got quite a bit of home-organizing done. I somehow ended up with two pen pals and we wrote long emails to each other throughout the time. Those provided some laugh out loud moments which were golden in a time of odd uncertainty. I probably watched too much TV, but I was selective about what I chose to entertain me. I remember liking Queen's Gambit. On the other hand, when I wanted the TV off, I didn't have to deal with anyone in my house who wanted it on. Silence was golden.

But coming out of the pandemic and getting back into the swing of seeing friends has been an adjustment. Has there been conflict? Yeah, a little, but mostly there has been movement: Some casual friends have become closer; there has been a disconnect with a couple of friends, and a few old friends have come back into my life. Maybe it's a bit like the Queen's Gambit chessboard. The pieces moved around a bit, and then some of them fell off the board.

This week I saw friends three days in a row. It was fun, but it was exhausting. I try to space these things out. And is the fatigue I feel in the late afternoon related to aging, pandemic, or what? I come home from these days feeling spent. And, truthfully, I have to override my reticence as these plans that I have made approach. In the past, when I had travel plans, I always went through pre-travel angst the night before the trip. Even if I was returning to my beloved Kona Village, as I did each October knowing I would be blissfully happy the entire time I was there, that night before travel would bring regretful blues. Why am I doing this? Why did this ever seem like a good idea? I wish I wasn't going. Luckily these thoughts were so familiar to me, that I let them tool around in my head while I interjected the wisdom that I always feel this way before all trips, and tomorrow when travel is underway, I will be fine. A glass or two of champagne always helped as well.

I have never felt this about social engagements. I have the opposite of social anxiety. I love parties. I love events. I am happy being in groups. Or at least I used to be. These days, even lunch plans with a friend brings up an angst similar to my pre-travel blues. I react as I always have. I keep calm and carry on. But I wonder what this is about. I have an odd yearning back to those productive days of lockdown. Somehow jonesing for a calendar with all days empty. And yet, it was not a happy time and I was painfully missing Joel throughout.

I don't think my pre-engagement angst is about my friends. I met my ex-best friend, Cindy, for lunch on Monday. We have reconnected after fifteen years without contact. It has been a unique experience to be together. I don't know where it will lead and what kind of a friendship we will have going forward, but we both agree that we want to explore this and have spent time catching up on all of the events of the past decade and a half, and gently touching on the conflict that led us out of each other's lives so many years ago.

I spent Tuesday with Lisa who I have known for over thirty years. We shared poke and a Caesar salad lunch and shopped Sephora for new lipsticks. Wednesday I was with my golf coach, Barb. We met another friend for french toast in the late morning, dropped off my watch for repair at Cartier in the afternoon, and then shopped Costco. I feel blessed to have these and other women in my life, even though I have to wade through those feelings of mild dread the night before the plans. I suppose this is just a post?-pandemic effect that will be with me for however long it is with me. And, I guess, that's ok.

Joel and I are planning to return, once again, to salsa dancing at a Columbian venue, which offers the best DJ and a lot of room to dance. We are strangers in this strange land, as there are clearly mostly Columbians who attend. The first time we went, I said to Joel: Not only am I the only white person in this club; but you are the only Mexican. I have been in other clubs where I am the only non-latino. But at this club, they dance differently, Columbian-style and so well! We both miss dancing a whole lot. But there is trepidation before we venture out. At least with us there is. Again, around us are people doing all kinds of the things they used to do and doing it all maskless. But then, how do I put this? There are a lot of idiots around us. So, while I have heard people scoff that Covid is no worse than a cold, we continue to stay safer, even if not completely safe. There is no such thing as a safe salsa club. But then, there are things that are worth risk while being careful in most other areas of our new lives. And for us both, dancing salsa is definitely one of those things.