2022 is a Very Weird Year

What happened to the hope we felt this time last year?

There’s a feeling I have had for the past several weeks that is difficult to describe. It’s like something is missing at the beginning of this year, 2022. But what is it?

A friend put it perfectly recently when she said, “2022: A Very Weird Year.”

Everywhere I look, everyone I talk to seems to be saying the same thing. The beginning of this year doesn’t feel good. Whether you’re pregnant, a new parent, you're running around after a toddler like me, or wondering if your child’s school is going to shut down again, parents are EXHAUSTED.

A Romper article titled “Omicron Means Parents Are Doing It All Again, Except This Time Dead Inside” put it perfectly. Aren’t we all just a little dead inside these days? Other publications are noticing it, too. At this point in the pandemic, parents are beyond capacity and struggling everywhere I look.

• “I am a mother in a pandemic. This country has abandoned me.” from Insider

• “I See Signs of Despair From Parents of Kids Under 5” from The New York Times

• “As Omicron Surges, Parents of the Youngest Kids Endure an Agonizing Wait” from Wired

Everyone seems to be stressed, and nobody I know is particularly enjoying the start of this year. And I think I understand why things are feeling so weird and, well, hopeless as we enter yet another new year inside of this pandemic.

This time last year, there was a lot of optimism in the air. I was excited that Biden was elected President and would soon take office. I was glad to be rid of the orange dumpster fire that began his campaign for the highest office in the land by calling Mexicans “rapists.” I honestly thought that, despite the challenges and the insurrection of January 6th, democracy had won and things would get better.

But more than that, many of us breathed a sigh of relief because vaccines were coming. FINALLY!

In the quickest scientific achievement in modern history, several companies developed a vaccine for COVID-19 in record time. Not only that, but the vaccines were largely effective and granted emergency authorization by the FDA, which meant they would begin rolling out in the U.S. and across the world in 2021.

I was so excited. I truly breathed a sigh of relief as each friend received their vaccine and waited my turn — even if somewhat impatiently.

And although I still feared for my baby and anxiously waited for vaccines to be approved for little ones, there was still a hope at the start of 2021 that is completely missing at the beginning of this year.

2022 sucks.

And we’re only 12 days in!

I am really, really tired. Although I rejoiced when my friends with kids over age 5 could get the vaccine for their little ones, getting hit by Delta this summer and the rise of Omicron in the past month has completely broken me.

I am broken.

I am struggling to work. I am struggling to journal. I am struggling to cook. I am struggling to play with my toddler. I am struggling to want to talk to friends. I am struggling to clean my house. I am struggling to want to do… pretty much anything.

Does this sound like depression to you? It certainly does to me.

I’m trying to remember all of the good things in my life. For one, I have access to affordable mental health care and am grateful for my therapist. Secondly, I have an incredibly supportive work environment, a roof over my head, a loving husband, an adorable baby, and my health. In fact, we all have our health — but I am still struggling. I am still terrified. I am still goddamn fucking tired.

I know that I am lucky and privileged in many ways, but that knowledge hasn’t made the past 22 months any more manageable.

And you know how I know that it’s 22 months into the pandemic? Because I remember the exact date — March 11, 2020 — when the World Health Organization declared this a pandemic. My baby turns 22 months in a couple of weeks, so the pandemic is actually older than he is. How can I possibly not feel depressed about that?

I wish I had something better or happier or more optimistic to end this first newsletter with, but I simply don’t. So right now, the only thing I have to give is these words and these thoughts that I hope reach you and make you feel, at the very least, a little less alone.

“I cracked yesterday,” a friend just told me. “I cracked on Monday,” I replied.

I honestly don’t know how we will all put ourselves back together again. But I do know this: We all ultimately will.

… just maybe not during this very weird year.