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Maybe Tomorrow?

April 26, 2020

I am exhausted… How are you doing? Are you having fun at home doing crafts? Are you going gaga trying to homeschool your kids? Are you taking this quarantine as a time off and doing Netflix marathons, eating and drinking as if there was no tomorrow?

I am, exhausted… I can’t adapt my daily routine to cope with this; finding Ritalin has become a treasure hunt with no treasure; the news in Argentina are about to make me loose my mind and the ones from New York crush me… I feel so tired…

I have read countless articles for neurodivergents saying “come up with a new routine / adapt your old routine to this new normal,” but they all give the same old advice and non of them have me helped so far. To my stress, which have been being triggered by the most silly things, now I have to add the fact that I can’t find my meds.

The ignorance and bureaucracy in this country are suffocating me; but I don’t give up; no sir. The pharmacies in my neighborhood ran out of Ritalin and they blame the “Pharmacy Inspection” for not working as it should; so, over the course of two days, I drove for three hours (each day) until I found one pharmacy that had them, but they refused to sell them to me.

They said my prescription was written against what the law says and that I should talk to my doctor. I called him, but he “didn’t have the time until Tuesday”; I checked the law, went back to the Pharmacy and told them, “The prescription is fine; please, I need this; check the law.” And: two male pharmacists yelled at me “Go to court to complain since you’re a lawyer!” and a woman – also pharmacist – yelled, “You’re waisting our time when we are in crisis!”

I smiled… (I still have a few capsules)

People are so stressed…, and the news… Geez Louis…

One of the Governors, here in Argentina, said during a press conference that he was considering putting tapes on the houses of people who were infected by the coronavirus [1] Slammed on social media for apparently trying to stigmatize, soon he apologized on Twitter for a bad choice of words when he was tired; it had been “an almost-hour talk,” he said, and an “exaggerated expression.” Did he retract his words? Did he say he is not going to put those tapes? Nope!

My speedy mind took me to the biblical times of Egypt, where Jews killed lambs and used their blood to mark their houses so that the angel of death wouldn’t take their first-born sons, because God didn’t have e-mail to send the white list to the angel of death. And I thought, for another dumb laugh, “Yeah, God needs our help from time to time;” and I joined the angry train! “Shame on you, Governor!”

But that silly joke stayed with me…, and then it hit me: “God needs our help from time to time, for real.” So now I’d like to say to the Governor, “You know what, sir? You are correct; in fact, if I catch the corona virus I will put a tape on my front door by myself; I want my neighbors to be safe. There’s no shame in being ill; in fact, I’ll be letting them know I might need some help and the will respond… Right?”

Also in Argentina’s social media, a young man was recently slammed for coming from the US infected and hiding it; people said he hid his fever with paracetamol passing every single control: if there were no symptoms, “carry on, man!” Later he tested positive, and he said he didn’t know he had it and that people need to be careful with the collective paranoia that raises around cases like his.

In Jerusalem, the government closed 17 neighborhoods – where they detected the most cases of coronavirus – and declared those areas as “restricted.” [2] … My speedy mind took another weird turn and I thought about Brad Pitt’s “World War Z.” (Spoiler alert, jews build a wall)

And as for me, waiting in line to get into the supermarket where I do the groceries, I stood six feet away from the man standing before me; but the woman behind me kept taking one step forward, and so I’d take one more step forward…; until I snapped and yelled at her, “Just, stop! Back off!” And immediately I thought “Laura what the fuck!”… I felt so ashamed, and I couldn’t turn around to apologize…

This is all so messed up…

The other day I thought about walking to the market; I’m gaining weight; my knees and my back are starting to hurt, so I thought “I’ll prepare one of my fav set lists and put my air pods on before leaving the house.” But after ten blocks or so I had a panic attack; I don’t know how I got back home. 

After a few days of not stepping outside I got masks (which became mandatory) and I thought “Now I won’t fear.” … But…, the scene…, seeing dozens of people wearing masks – even hand-made masks with plastic bottles –  keeping their distance and looking at each other as if someone were about to start a mass shooting, was … Do I need to describe this?

My parents refuse to stay at home, and they get mad at me for getting upset with them; the weather man from the news spends ten freaking minutes talking about how nice is going to be out there…, out there where we cannot go, and the female co-anchor discusses, for another ten minutes, “The winter is coming early this year, right?” “I don’t know,” his partner says, “I don’t have the data;” and she insists “last year I was wearing sandals; what do you think?”

I think you need to shut the fuck off, lady.

I am so tired… I wake up every day at 3.00am sharp; my inner clock wakes me up and this resilience I was blessed with tells me “Yay! Another day! Today it can be a good day!” I write; I plan; I pet my cats. I take breaks every 45 minutes so I can continue working without exhausting my sight – mind, soul and heart – and a New York Times update pops up on my phone: “After an anonymous tip, 17 bodies were found at a New Jersey nursing home hit by the virus.” [3]

And I picture the families asking “My father was in a pile? They left my nana on a pile?” And I picture the moments before they died; I feel them desperately trying to breath; I feel them wretched and hopeless, eager for a hug… silently screaming “Don’t leave me alone.”

And I give up. For the remaining of the day, I give up. ??‍♀️



Laly York. B.Ed. Lawyer. Writer / Researcher. ADHD advocate
Developer and author of the blogs "Neurodivergent", "NKOTB" and "Laly's."

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