And while I'm not worried for myself, I'm worried that if I do get very ill and am hospitalized, I'll be taking a bed away from a trauma patient who badly needs it. A heart attack victim who may be turned away. A cancer patient whose treatment has been postponed. It's not just folks with Covid who may die because of it.
It's hard to think that I'll not be able to see my brother this year. I miss him very much. But I want him well and alive for the next time. That's is what is getting me through feeling upset about a ruined Christmas this year.
Remembering what hugs are, and knowing that if I'm good, and they're good, and the people around them are good, I'll get to hug my loved ones again soon. There are going to be some uncomfortably long hugs, my friends. I'm warning you now.
There is light on the horizon. The shortest day has ended. Night won't hold on forever.
That's what's getting me through.
I have my cat, who is curled up on the table beside me as I type, and he is adorable and very affectionate. I have my friends downstairs, who are kind and generous and lovely. I have my writing and my art and my crafting. I am in a better place than many people as this lockdown looms, and I'm so very grateful.
It's be a shit year. But the longest night has passed.
And if not, I'm going to lose my damned mind!