Warning: The video represents a brief reenactment with my therapist during a recent session. Please see your mental health specialist or medical professional for more information on managing your thoughts or feelings. This is my personal experience. I am not a doctor nor am I trained to offer you medical advice.
Black FOLKS with LONG COVID: I’m writing this for YOU, specifically, but all are welcome to eavesdrop.
Every day, the headlines get scarier and more sensational. This shit is hard. Hard. HARD.
From wildfires to temporary social media bans—2025 has already been an incredibly difficult year (and it’s only January.)
This week, I cried more than I have in a long time. I am going through it. I’m scared. I’m worried. And I’m pissed. For all of us. After reading and rereading every single Executive Order the current (and former) President revoked by the end of his first day in office last week, I can’t believe this is reality. I’m waiting for a director to yell, “Cut!” so we can pretend this is a movie and go back to some sort of normalcy. Somehow, I know this won’t happen.
According to the American Bar Association:
Executive Orders are Presidential directives that are numbered and are usually in consecutive order to past related order.
They do not require Congressional approval.
I especially paid attention to each of the orders related to Covid-19. Written declarations created to support so many of us with Long Covid are just gone. Medical care, the decrease in medication costs, and research plans have been scrapped.
Zap! A magician just pulled one of the most frightening tricks on each of us. Once we saw some (limited) protections for us, now we don’t. And I can’t lie: my soul hurts. Regulations that were once fortified by homebound Long Covid activists may never see the light of day again. I, too, helped initiate some of those past orders.
Excuse me as I pour my homemade hydration drink on the ground for us.
I don’t believe in toxic positivity. Right now, I need some Sesame Street-type joy.
So here at The Blackest Side of Long Covid, our Word of the YEAR is (Re)COMMIT.
commit /kəˈmit/ (verb) — be dedicated to; pledge
*Oxford Language via Google
Being a nurturer makes me want to send love balm to everyone who needs it right now. Here’s how I’m COMMITTING to tackling my anxiety since I am unable to control the suffering that’s happening in our country.
1. Made appointments my with therapist and psychiatrist for support.
2. Scheduled appointment with current neurologist to receive follow-up care concerning short term memory loss and occipital neuralgia pain and inflammation. (I am not fond of his bedside manner but want to get some expert advice and grab my medical records.)
3. Scheduled an appointment with a new neurologist closer to my home. Want to establish care with a new expert who can recommend new testing protocols and treatment for memory loss, migraines, nerve inflammation, etc.
4. Write in my gratitude journal every day.
5. Continue to plan for rest throughout the day—even when I don’t feel tired.
6. Temporarily unfollowed some blogs and mainstream media platforms that feature political news. I am triggered by what seems like racial, financial, and sexist injustice in our country that affects BIPOC, LGBTQIA+, and poor communities.
7. Shaved down even more time on socials. And I’m committing to staying connected to family and friends.
8. Writing for The Blackest Side of Long Covid so I can establish a new loving community there under the Black Long Covid Experience imprint.
9. Leaving my home for short walks and coloring in my coloring book.
Plan dates and intentional time with family and friends.
I’m sending you love from my whole heart. You are more than welcome to use one or a few of my suggestions. Holla at me and let me know what you’re committing to in your mental health this week.
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