How COVID19 Changed My Life (in a good way)

“Beware the Ides of March,” said Billy Shakespeare, through the soothsayer.

But did Caesar listen?

No!

Did I listen?

Also no!

Clearly, I don’t deserve my Bachelor’s Degree in English with a Creative Writing emphasis. The Bard was trying to warn me all along.

So, then.

I had just spent a month next to my grandmother’s hospital bed listening to her cry out in unbearable pain.

My story Cabin Fever explains how we got there, and tells a little more about her remarkable life story.

Grandma Joan & Grandpa Richard

After her funeral, I felt like I had just started to catch my breath when it became literally difficult to catch my breath.

I tested positive for COVID19 on March 15, 2020, an inauspicious date, the aforementioned Ides of March, made infamous for the assassination of Julius Caesar, as you probably already know, Dear Reader, because you’re reading a story on Vocal, so you must be a well read scholar of literature and history, or you’re just a post-pandemic jobless nerd with too much time on their hands like me.

My father, otherwise strong as an ox at 73, became so sick with Covid (because I gave it to him before I knew I had it) that he ended up in the intensive care unit for over a week on supplemental oxygen to keep him alive.

This was just about two weeks after the death of my grandmother.

It felt like my family couldn’t catch a break.

My mother lost her sense of taste and smell and experienced some milder symptoms, but thankfully stayed out of the hospital.

Neither of us were allowed to leave the property after we tested positive, so we sat wringing our hands by the phone for any news from the hospital.

Some days, he felt strong enough to give us a call.

Other days we wouldn’t hear from him at all.

Those days were hard.

One benefit of him being the first patient in the ICU of my hometown with COVID19, if there could be a benefit, was that he had the full attention of the medical staff there, whom provided him with excellent care, although at the time so little was known about the virus he was a veritable guinea pig for treatments.

Their efforts succeeded, and he returned home a week later, for which I will be forever thankful.

We all made a slow recovery after that.

I tested positive for months, and I wasn’t legally allowed to leave my parent’s property for that time.

What was meant to be a three day visit turned into a three month stay.

This was particularly challenging with my newly adopted puppy, Cosley, a rambunctious little rescue pup with enough energy to power a small city.

I owe our friends and neighbors in Helena a huge debt of gratitude for walking him while I was infectious.

Cosley

Although I was an otherwise healthy, active 30 year old, all of the less common symptoms for coronavirus were the ones I experienced the most: terrible headaches, chronic fatigue, tightness in my lungs, difficulty thinking straight, GI issues, and even anxiety.

At this point, I had never heard of a Covid long-hauler, because the term hadn’t been crafted yet, but I would end up experiencing intense, debilitating fatigue, among other things, for the next 8 months.

This would have been challenging for anyone, I think, but it was particularly difficult for me because of the way it prevented me from living my life in a way that was in line with my identity.

Adventure Life

For most of my adult life, my identity had been wrapped up in my ability to lead people on adventures.

I was an Adventure Specialist at a therapeutic boarding school for teenagers in Montana, and before that a backpacking guide in Glacier National Park, a white water rafting guide, ski instructor, hiking guide, summer camp counselor for homeless children, Wilderness First Aid Instructor, Advanced Life Support Wilderness First Responder for high altitude rescues and emergency backcountry surgeries, and one semester as the Outdoor Recreation and Ecotourism Program Director at a college study abroad institute in the jungles of Panama.

That last one was cut short by a flesh eating parasite called Leishmaniasis Panamensis, but that’s a tale for another time.

My ability to perform this kind of physically demanding work had been taken away, and whisked away with it was my sense of self, my identity as an adventurer and educator.

I lost my job, because most days I felt too weak to get out of bed, let alone lead a group of anxious, depressed teenagers on an outdoor adventure like rock climbing or skiing with the therapeutic boarding school.

Without the ability to work for months, I also watched my savings steadily disappear as expenses piled up.

I begrudgingly contemplated becoming one of the other 60% of people my age that had been forced to move back in with their parents.

Just taking my dog for a walk was enough to wear me out for the rest of the day, and well into the next one.

On one challenging afternoon walk through the woods with Cosley, I felt like I was walking through deep mud, even though the ground was blanketed in wildflowers.

I normally would have felt a sense of peace from returning to the wilderness, but that day I remember feeling a total lack of hope for my present and my future.

I stared up at the trees for a long time.

Eventually, Cosley made a noise that I’m sure was his way of asking what I was doing, and when I looked at him he cocked his head in concern.

“You’re right, buddy, let’s go home,” I said.

That night, I reached out to a friend of mine at Sage Intent Collective, a new organization that offers therapeutic coaching for overall wellness in all areas of life, and it’s made all the difference.

Intention vs. Resolution

It turned out I had plenty of work to do on myself, and I had the perfect combination of deep motivation and unemployed free time to do it.

After acknowledging some of the hardest things I had ever acknowledged out loud to another person, my therapeutic-coach (she is a licensed therapist, but the laws around therapy and coaching as they apply to insurance are absurd, so we’re calling her a therapeutic-coach) gave me some great advice:

“You know, I’d be worried if you didn’t feel this messed up. You’ve been through a shitstorm this year. It’s ok to honor that sadness. Just allow yourself to feel it without judgement or shame and then move on.”

Huh.

Suddenly I had permission to feel like my life had been turned upside down without shame, because this professional that I respected agreed that my life had indeed been turned upside down.

We covered Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and used them as a road map to chart progress.

Here’s what those needs look like, courtesy of The School of Life YouTube Channel:

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

She helped me realize I wasn’t even fulfilling my needs on the bottom of the pyramid, in the realm of the Physiological.

I was eating junk food, drinking too much alcohol and not enough water, and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get enough sleep.

I picked up an old bad habit during my post Covid isolation: smoking cigarettes, which was one of the stupidest decisions ever after surviving a virus that attacks the lungs.

I definitely didn’t feel secure in my other needs, either.

Swiftly running out of money to pay rent, my own mind was a hostile environment.

Under mandatory isolation orders for months while I kept testing positive for COVID19, and then for another six months when I retreated to my grandma’s old cabin on the lake, friendships and other relationships fell apart.

Maslow’s middle of the pyramid, Belonging, was gone.

Thank goodness for my dog.

Living in a rural community in northwest Montana, many of my neighbors believed Covid was a hoax, so when I ran into old acquaintances around there conversations felt strained when they asked why I hadn’t gotten back to work yet:

“Must be nice not working, you worthless piece of garbage,” was the general impression I got from those conversations.

And to be honest, I agreed with the second part of that sentiment at the time.

Respect from my peers, and even for myself, had disappeared.

The dignity that comes from a job felt unachievable.

I’ve worked a job of some kind ever since I was legally allowed to work one, so going for so long without employment felt unbelievably shameful.

So, the Esteem category of the pyramid was also empty like a missing piece from a game of Jenga.

Finally, the top of the pyramid, that lofty goal of Self-Actualization, felt like a distant dream.

The last time I was living up to my fullest potential had been years, at least.

Then, my therapeutic-coach told me something that would change my life:

“You have an opportunity to craft new meaning and purpose for yourself out of all this chaos. Now that you’re at rock bottom, you get to decide which direction and in what manner to climb back out.”

So, I got to work trying to find that new meaning for myself.

Using Maslow’s pyramid as a road map, I broke down what I needed into small steps and attempted them one at a time.

I changed my diet to include less processed junk and more anti-inflammatory, nutritious and whole foods.

I cut way back on alcohol and quit smoking.

I slowly incorporated an exercise routine as my energy began to improve from the nutrition changes, and I kept walking my dog a few times a day, checking in with my therapist on how things were going.

The transformation started: I was taking definitive steps for my health, starting with the mental and physical, and with considerable effort the bottom of Maslow’s pyramid, the realm of Physiological Basic Needs, filled in.

Qualifying for unemployment benefits temporarily eased the burden of not being able to work and to fulfill the second step of the pyramid, Security.

The further along on this journey I went, the easier it became to reconnect with old friends, giving me that important Sense of Belonging Maslow indicates as the next need.

I started feeling like myself again, but a better version of myself.

More focused.

Driven.

The sense of hopelessness I dragged around for months like a bag of hot garbage was finally gone.

In its place, I felt like I was floating a couple inches off the ground towards a better future.

I took on more projects around the family cabin, and after the completion of each little task, no matter how small, I felt motivated to tackle something more.

Every new coat of paint over an old wall felt like a new beginning.

I built a wood burning stove powered hot tub over the course of a weekend with the help of a friend, using almost entirely recycled materials. I’ll post another story on how to build your own.

The completion of that project was especially satisfying, because I experienced the accomplishment in such a physical way: overlooking a beautiful lake and soaking in an electricity-free hot tub I built with my own hands.

As I stared out over the lake, snow falling onto my face and steam rising from the hot water, I found myself thinking:

Ok, then. What’s next?

As we approached the end of that train wreck of a year called 2020, my therapeutic-coach checked in to reflect on all the work we accomplished.

She reminded me of how far we came over the course of a few months together, pointing out how the person that reached out for help and the person I am now seemed so far apart.

It was a rare moment for her as a professional, she said, being able to see a client take all of her advice into consideration, and then from there, into action.

The meaning I decided to craft for myself out of all that chaos was to craft a more meaningful, happier, healthier life for myself, and it was happening more every day.

As New Year’s Eve drew closer, she encouraged me not to focus on any particular resolution, because resolutions by their very nature are more likely to fail.

Instead, she said, focus on an intention.

Choose a single word, a maxim that sums up your goals for the year ahead, that is in line with the meaning you want to craft for yourself.

After some inspiring dialogue, we landed on Trust as my intention.

Trust in myself.

In my ability to get myself out of whatever life might throw at me next.

In my ability to separate whatever my long term physical symptoms from Covid might be from my sense of self worth, from my identity.

Onward

I decided to incorporate juicing fresh fruits and veggies into my diet to flush my system with healthy nutrients while I quit smoking, and I’ve been amazed by how a fresh made juice like this one wakes me up faster than a cup of coffee.

I haven’t smoked a cigarette since before Christmas, and I’m so glad to no longer be putting that toxic poison into my lungs.

I’ve even started running again.

Another side effect of all these shifts in lifestyle?

Since this time last year, I’ve lost 50 pounds.

I feel better than I have in years, and I’m thinking about registering for a Marathon this summer.

This feels incredible, because it wasn’t so long ago that I herniated two discs in my spine working the Smith River Canyon in Montana for an outfitter.

I couldn’t walk for about two months, and it is not an exaggeration to say it was the worst physical pain I’ve ever experienced.

After conversations with my surgeon post spinal surgery, I didn’t think I would ever be able to run again.

Really, it was uncertain if I would even be able to walk again.

Now I’m running six miles without pain, and I can’t wait to see how far I can go.

This reintroduction to running is largely thanks to an inspiring new person in my life that encouraged me to join her on a run.

As soon as this process of self growth was well on its way, I met the woman of my dreams.

Not from swiping on a dating app or actively trying to meet her, but from a serendipitous encounter that lead to a snowy hike and the harvesting of a Christmas tree together near the Continental Divide.

Never in my life have I felt more appreciated for just being myself.

This simultaneously makes me more confident in who I am while making me more motivated than ever to continue and improve, like a positive snowball effect.

I’ve never experienced such a balanced and healthy relationship, and it’s amazing to me how it started organically exactly when we both became ready for it.

She inspires me every day.

I’ve heard a few philosophers lecture on the concept of Flow State, and I think I understand it now more than ever.

A state of being where thought and action become unified without effort, where each moment is a salient snap in time to which your awareness has just been tuned into.

The biggest difference between who I was and who I am now, I think, is that before I always made resolutions for everything I wanted to do, and then I’d feel shame when they would inevitably fail.

Now, though, I feel like a man of action more than I ever have, and it feels like the most natural process in the world to just get started on whatever it is I’m trying to accomplish.

It’s making that pinnacle of Maslow’s pyramid, Self-Actualization and Fulfillment, feel more in reach each day.

As Morpheus says to Neo in the greatest sci-fi movie of all time:

“There’s a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path.”

If you enjoyed reading about my journey, please feel free to share it with someone else you think might enjoy it, and Cosley would be very grateful for any tips, because they will most likely go towards dog food.

He’s a good boy.

If you or someone you know could benefit from therapy or therapeutic-coaching from a Licensed Clinical Social Worker or another qualified member of her team, I absolutely encourage you to check out the work my friends do at Sage Intent Collective.

I may even be joining their team in the future, as they have a vision to hire former clients to become new therapists or coaches, which I think makes perfect sense.

Life can be hard.

You don’t have to face it alone, and we need to destigmatize conversations around mental health and seeking help.

Hopefully this story can help inspire someone else to begin their own fresh start.

You can stalk me on social media here.

Thank you for reading!