I’ve been seeing lots of posts recently about social distancing, a lot of very valid reminders about what that actually means and calling people out for not properly following the guidelines.

I see both sides. I am sympathetic to people still interacting with each other. I am scared of what it means for infection rates and how long this thing will go on and rule our lives. Yes, there are a lot of people being blatantly ignorant and making poor choices, and that is so frustrating.

Then I wonder how many are like me.

While a lot of you may be going stir crazy at home or being driven up the walls by your family members or roommates, or maybe you’re actually really enjoying the family/roommate time, I live alone, and I work at a hospital. Normally I love living alone. I am an introvert at heart (no one else believes me either, it’s okay), but it’s even getting lonely for me.

Most of you know that I moved back to Georgia last November. I had what I thought would be this really great job working for a podiatrist opening his own practice– only to have everything come crashing down on me three weeks later when I was abruptly fired without any explanation, but that’s a story for another day.

I ended up working for an apparel company temporarily through the holidays before starting at a local hospital as a patient care tech after the first of the year, so things worked out. It certainly did not feel like they ever would when I walked out of the podiatrist’s office mid-week, midday, without a single hint of any misgivings before that day.

While I am so grateful for my job at the hospital (particularly now with the coronavirus pandemic due to the job security working at a hospital is providing at this time) and ultimately feel it is a better fit for me, I work nights. Let me tell you, night-shift is its own twilight zone. I sleep all day and work all night. To say this complicates the rest of my life would be an understatement. Trying to run errands during normal business hours often requires sacrificing sleep. Trying to find mutually good times with friends often requires sacrificing sleep. Getting to church Sunday mornings often requires a sudden switch in routine… and sacrificing sleep. You can probably see the pattern by now.

On my off nights, depending on how the week lays out, I typically keep to the same night-shift schedule. Off nights tend to be long and lonely as the rest of the world sleeps. I’m going to bed around 6 or 7 in the morning when the rest of the world is just waking up to begin the day. Then, I sleep until it’s time to get up for work, which doesn’t leave much time for conversations with loved ones.

Now we are throwing COVID-19 into the mix. Between working nights at a hospital and living alone, lonely has turned into nearly complete isolation except for work. I have no built-in quarantine buddies, although I did start fostering cats a week ago which has helped, although it cannot replace human interaction. Likewise, the human interaction I get at work is very demanding on me and requires continuous pouring out. I’m not unable to spend face-to-face time with the people who help fill me back up.

So while everyone posts about proper social distancing and staying at home and to “look on the bright side of all the extra time we’re getting with family,” I sit up all night, alone, as per usual, with no one to stay home with let alone even talk to at 3 and 4 in the morning.

Working in a hospital, it is probably best I live alone so that when we inevitably start getting more coronavirus cases I am not bringing it home to expose anyone (if I do end up in contact with the patients, I work on a stroke floor so it will likely depend on how bad it gets at one time).

I wish I could say I am handling it all better. I wish I could say that as a known night owl, I am thriving working nights. I wish I could say my introvert self was thriving with all the alone time.

I’m not though. Kind of goes back to my last post. It is very much day-by-day survival mode right now. So check in on your “essential” friends. Check-in on your friends who live alone. And when this is all over, wrap us in a big ole bear hug because it will have been far too long since we were last loved on/hung out with/etc.

I know that this too shall pass, but it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel right now. So I’m taking it one day at a time and hoping it’s all over sooner rather than later.

And I guess what I’m trying to say is have grace for the people enduring this pandemic physically alone. Technology is a blessing in this time but it cannot replace physical human interaction with the people we love.