Quarantini Hour

It has officially been 6 months since q*arantine and C*VID drastically changed our lives. At the beginning we all were writing the next American novel, but now…not so much. The days all blur together, classes are still from my bedroom, and I’m starting to miss my morning commute.

How well can we all actually be doing?

The truth is, I never really asked myself that question until a month ago. It’s a pandemic and although bits of my life were incredibly altered, I had all that I needed. Reaching out to the not-so-productive side of my brain has been a really important part of my “self-care diary,” in a literal and non-literal sense.

Instead of practicing self-care habits externally, I turned internally. Face masks, oils, and fun products looked all very appealing, but as C*VID drew forward, sadly unwavering, it all felt like a band-aid for the wounds the pandemic was causing.

Companies all ran ads asking how we were doing, but even those faded out the longer we settled into our situation.

Journaling has helped me cope without suppressing how I’m feeling – it also reminds me to feel. I was having a hard time recalling the past few days since quarantine started but journaling a collection of feelings and pinpoints of my days has made them more concrete and not slip so easily into one long week after week.

If you are a beginner at journaling yourself, check out Margot Lee’s Quarantine journal series to kick start yours.

Another aspect, one I also ignored, was what it means to be able to cook for myself. I never saw cooking as a time for active investment into my body. Not in the sense of diet culture or even the healthy habits culture – just the pure form of cooking for myself.

Trying new recipes and becoming conscious of my food is now an active form of self-care that I get to practice every day. It makes me feel better about myself, and it shows me that I care about me (which I think we all forget to do sometimes).

My new and current theme in my self-care is self-investment. Q*arantine happened and I lost that aspect in my days. Walks, workouts, products, and school all felt very forced into the bubble that is my bedroom. It felt as though my own identity in what used to be was taken from me.

Now I’m taking it back.

I still do my face masks, watch Sex and the City for the 19974842th time (I miss you Boston), and practice other (less) self-centric practices. Sometimes the band-aid is the perfect cure, but right now all I want is to put energy back into me.

We are our best investment *wink wink.*

By Harper Wayne

BU Student, self-published author, and an enthusiastic thrifter with a soft spot for rainy days.