As the reality of the pandemic began to unfold, an overwhelming sense of dread settled in my stomach, heavy as a stone. That sensation persists, influencing my sleep, memory, appetite, and overall energy. This dread is multifaceted; it encompasses not only fear but also frustration and anger, and a profound sense of instability, as if momentum has come to a grinding halt.
Yet, I find solace in understanding that I am fundamentally okay. I recognize that, relative to countless others, my circumstances afford me numerous reasons for gratitude.
The notion of making comparisons to others has become somewhat controversial. I have encountered inspiring messages from respected figures like Amanda Lewis and Michael Turner, urging us to refrain from measuring our struggles against those of others. In online discussions, I’ve seen comments like, “This isn’t a contest of suffering!”
The prevailing thought is that comparing our struggles can lead to self-shaming for feelings that are entirely legitimate. We are all entitled to our struggles and emotions; they should not be judged. Every form of grief holds validity, and comparisons of suffering should be avoided.
I fully support the idea of not shaming ourselves for how we feel. However, I believe that using comparisons can sometimes help us gain perspective and lift ourselves out of emotional mire. The concept of “downward comparison” emerged in the 1980s, describing a phenomenon where individuals assess their social status against those less fortunate to feel better about their own situations. While this theory has faced scrutiny for overlooking nuances such as access and opportunity, it still holds relevance.
Simply put, downward comparisons can be ineffective because some individuals are genuinely in dire situations with no means of improvement. It’s essential never to suggest to someone facing genuine hardship, “It could be worse!”
Conversely, for those of us with certain privileges, it’s reasonable to leverage downward comparisons to foster a more optimistic outlook. Engaging in this kind of internal dialogue can be a tool for resilience, allowing us to recognize that, in comparison to others, we may actually have it relatively well. This process does not demand that we spiral into self-loathing; the objective is to gain perspective.
Throughout my experience during COVID-19, I have faced many difficult days marked by panic and anxiety. There have been instances where I could only rise from bed because my children were observing and needed a sense of normalcy. I have taken showers, not for cleanliness, but as a private refuge for tears. The weight of dread still lingers within me.
Financially, I operate as a self-employed individual relying on various small income sources, some of which were immediately jeopardized by the pandemic. My partner lives 1,400 miles away, and the uncertainty around when we might reunite is alarming given the current restrictions on travel. My children’s educational future remains uncertain, as the local community displays a confusing mix of compliance and defiance regarding health guidelines. Once, I could anticipate what to expect in a month; now, everything feels unpredictable, with many outcomes that I dread.
I could easily succumb to sadness; at times, I indeed want to.
Instead, I compare. Yes, the pandemic has brought panic attacks and tearful days, yet I recognize that I remain healthy, both physically and mentally. Unlike many, I do not depend on medications that could face supply issues. Should I require care for my mental or physical health, I have a solid healthcare plan and providers ready to assist me. In this context, I realize how fortunate I truly am. This acknowledgment helps me summon the strength to move forward.
Though I have lost income, I still have some financial support. Many have faced complete economic ruin, so I recognize my privilege. Even amidst uncertainty, I have a safety net that ensures my children and I will not go hungry, regardless of our financial losses.
I may not know when I’ll next see my partner, but I think of military families separated for extended periods, of those maintaining long-distance relationships across time zones, and even of how challenging it would have been to stay connected two decades ago, long before the advent of modern technology. We are fortunate; it truly could be worse.
Regarding my children’s schooling, I am mindful that many families have it far tougher. There are regions where children lacked access to education even before the pandemic. We are in a position of choice, and this period without structured schooling cannot be viewed as insurmountable suffering. The resources we had access to before the pandemic will remain available afterward, revealing our privilege.
These downward comparisons foster gratitude. I dislike the term “downward comparison,” as it can imply superiority, which is not the intention. The purpose is to gain perspective and cultivate thankfulness.
When that heavy dread weighs on me, making me want to retreat inward, reflecting on the more significant suffering of others provides the perspective I need to not only feel a sense of relief regarding my situation but also to extend support to those in greater need than I am.
I have no shame in admitting my bad days, my sadness, my grief, or my desire for things to be different. No one should feel ashamed. Yet, it is entirely valid and even beneficial to compare. Ultimately, perspective is everything.
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Summary:
In navigating the emotional landscape of COVID-19, the author shares their experience with dread and uncertainty, while also advocating for the usefulness of comparing one’s struggles to those of others as a means to gain perspective and foster gratitude. By acknowledging their own privilege, they find strength to cope with difficulties and to support others who may be suffering more profoundly.