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When it all started…

For me it all had started on 13th March 2020, a Friday, usually a lucky day. Not this one but I was to find this out much later. The night before I had gone to my tango class, embracing people other than my tango partner.  “I don’t want to die alone, that’s for sure” I heard myself saying half-jokingly while giving the odd kiss hello or goodbye on the cheek.  A timid laugh, a nod of agreement from the other side. The world was still ok and we still had each other, the music, the touch, the embrace.

 

The next morning over coffee I read an article written by a supporter of the German socialist party die Linke and listened to a podcast from meanwhile Germany’s most famous virologist, Prof. Dr. Christian Drosten. In an instant it all changed. At least it did so in my mind. I realised that what was lying ahead was serious. We ought to prepare for a marathon and this time I was to contribute instead of rebel. I think it was the mix of receiving similar advice both from an extreme left corner, as well as from the mouth of a scientist without political affiliation clearly representing the world of reason that drove me to this conclusion. Not even the socialists are calling for a revolution, this virus is bigger than anything known so far and I am to conform, or so were my initial thoughts.

 

From that day onward, from that Friday, the 13th I did not shake anyone’s hand any longer, I did not embrace or give kisses on the cheek and I kept a distance of about 1.5 meters from other people, even when in my own flat. As I love being over the top, I started keeping a diary with my whereabouts and social contacts, just in case the safe distance of 1.5 meters would not do the trick and I needed to get back to everyone… The entries noted the supermarkets I went to, the restaurants visited or the name of the one friend I met. As a fun factor I started noting the zoom and skype meetings, too but this was mostly so the calendar looked a bit busier. While the schools closed that Monday, restaurants, cafés and the like closed only as of 22nd March. I had started with self-imposed measures a whole week earlier and I was very pleased with myself.

 

The following three weeks I simply functioned and I functioned well or better say I was living very healthily. My daily routine comprised some 5 – 10 km jogs or walks and eating healthy. I had not hoarded any wine, crisps or ice-cream as not to give in to any temptation and it actually worked! Well, I did buy a single bottle of red wine every two, three days but I consider that healthy… On a mental level keeping healthy was a bit more challenging. My course had been indefinitely postponed and so I had no real obligations. Only the ones to myself and while those may be the most important ones, they are also the easiest to push to tomorrow. What I did instead was reading the news, watching the news and listening to the news. I followed some You Tube tutorials as to refresh my mathematic memory on the exponential curve and started explaining to anyone who happened to ask, why this time the situation was serious. As if they (the others) did not know. As if they were not informed through their own channels of communication. Another daily routine was receiving and forwarding memes, even created my very personal one when the clocks were put forward that last weekend in March. Humour is necessary in those difficult times. Humour keeps us going. Humour takes our minds to a vacation for a brief but invaluable moment. Other than that I was just functioning and checking the numbers, sometimes 10 times a day. Not healthy I hear you say? You are dead right it was not. It was like a drug, it was my daily dose of nicotine. You know that smoking [insert your own vice for more plausibility] is not good for yourself but you do it regardless, right? Now, I may have given up smoking (on 16.09.2019 to be precise) but I knew the pattern all too well. I knew that checking the news and numbers constantly would not change anything, I knew it would actually make things worse but I could not stop. I had to first find out what my addictive behaviour was replacing. What void was there to fill? The answer I gave to myself was a small word with many saturations and even bigger consequences, namely fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of a world-wide economic collapse. Fear that I would not be able to see my family, hug my parents for a long, long time. Fear of death. Fear of loneliness. The list was endless and it entailed all possible fears and anxieties but the one I could do something about.

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