“Are you ready for this?” I asked my daughter, Chloe, who was just seven years old.
“Yes!” she replied enthusiastically.
In the early days of lockdown, she finally mastered riding a bike. It took several afternoons, but unlike me, she is incredibly determined. One Tuesday, after her second day of virtual school, it all clicked.
Now, as May rolls around, she felt bold enough to tackle a steep hill.
“Okay, just remember to brake,” I reminded her, hoping we wouldn’t end up in the ER.
“I know, Dad,” she assured me confidently.
Reflecting back to my twenties, I’ve battled depression for nearly half my life. I’ve relied on medication and therapy during this journey. While there are undoubtedly chemical factors at play, my mental state has always been influenced by my sense of purpose. Becoming a lawyer didn’t fulfill me and contributed to my struggles well into my thirties.
The loss of our first child when my partner, Sarah, was pregnant hit me hard. It marked a devastating low point, exacerbating my depression for some time.
However, when Chloe was born, followed by her brother Max, my world changed. Although I worked as a lawyer, I spent significant time at home during their early years, which reignited my sense of purpose and drastically improved my mental health. Those moments were the happiest of my life.
About six months ago, my depression unexpectedly resurfaced, making daily tasks feel like climbing mountains. My doctor adjusted my medication, and I experienced a few good days in January and February, but overall, it remained a struggle.
In therapy, the concept of “purpose” emerged again. My law career was more uncertain than ever, and my children were no longer infants. They had their friends and activities, which left me with more alone time as they engaged with their peers.
Then the pandemic struck. Sarah and I both hold non-essential jobs in New Jersey, so we complied with the stay-at-home orders. Schools shut down, and homeschooling replaced classroom learning. Each day, we logged on to help Chloe and Max with their assignments. I typically worked with Chloe while Sarah helped Max.
I felt anxious about the world outside, constantly glued to the news while Sarah found solace in romance novels. We balanced each other out, but I often wondered how I ended up at this end of the spectrum.
Surprisingly, my mental health began to improve. I still connect with my therapist via phone, and we noted that this lockdown has, ironically, restored a sense of purpose for me as both an educator and a supportive figure in my children’s lives.
In addition to teaching Chloe to ride her bike, Max is also getting close. We take long family walks, enjoy movies together, and play games. It’s not all smooth sailing; we occasionally irritate one another, and homeschooling certainly has its hurdles. Yet, for the first time in years, I feel present and engaged with my family.
This brings up a thought-provoking question: Should I feel guilty for my improved well-being during such a tragic time? The bike rides, homeschooling, and renewed sense of purpose are all products of a global crisis. COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on our lives, and living near New York City, we’re acutely aware of the suffering around us. My cousin is on the front lines, intubating patients at a city hospital, reminding me of the gravity of our situation.
Yet, within the confines of my home, life feels different.
I’m uncertain about what the future holds. How will I adapt when life returns to its previous rhythm? I worry for my mental health, though I naturally hope for a return to normalcy, which would signify overcoming this deadly virus. I also want my children to experience a typical childhood, playing with their peers.
For now, I’ll embrace my gratitude for feeling okay and the quality time I’m sharing with my kids.
As Chloe descended the hill on her bike, she began cautiously but soon found her rhythm, making it down safely. I couldn’t help but feel pride. This marked our sixteenth bike ride in the last eighteen days (not that I’m counting).
She turned to me with a glowing smile.
“I did it, Daddy!”
I began to clap.
“Daddy, can I try my skateboard on this hill tomorrow?” she asked eagerly.
I never claimed this journey would be easy.
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In summary, while the pandemic has brought about immense challenges, it has also granted me a renewed sense of purpose and engagement with my family that I hadn’t felt in years. I’ll continue to cherish these moments, even amidst the chaos of the world outside.
Keyphrase: finding purpose during a pandemic
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