A Letter to COVID-19

Dear COVID 19,

When you came into our lives, I wasn’t devastated. I looked at you like many did; time to slow down, time to allow the planet to heal, and time regroup and refocus. But now that you have been with us for endless months, I would politely like to ask you to leave.

In the beginning I saw this as a chance to have more time with my four-year-old son. As a parent who had her custody strained in the beginning of his life, I saw this as make-up time. I could have him with me more and would be able to use my retired preschool teaching skills and help him develop some needed skills for his upcoming year in Kindergarten. It was a gift from the Universe.

We did art and science, explored fields looking for four-leaf clovers, and enjoyed the changing seasons from Spring to Summer. I will not lie, it was magical. But we are now in August and everything has been turned upside down. When you joined our society I thought to myself, “I have been through worse. I can do this and I can do it well.” Well, I find myself regretting my thoughts. I am a bipolar mom, in recovery, who lives with her aging parents. I work two jobs, both that require me to work with actual people, and I am always stressed that I am a carrier of your vicious existence.

Because I live with bipolar, certain things can trigger me. Sometimes I feel like I am trying to hold on to the ground in a tornado of triggers. Many people have the gift of staying home and still being able to work. They can make the decision for themselves, or their family, and stay home and stop the spread. As a single mom, that is not a choice for me. I need to work and my jobs are in human service and the restaurant industry. Human services are a challenge because my job is to be a sounding board for people that may be having a challenging time in their life. I am on the phone listening to people share their struggles as I am trying to make sure my son is occupied and not rotting his brain on YouTube.

On the days I am meeting with people I am spending money on a babysitter and feel terrible that what if he is a carrier and we don’t know. I have had the COVID test. I would love to avoid my son having one. So, my stomach is always in knots and somedays I can barely catch my breath.

I am single, so imagine dating? “Have you been screened for COVID?” is a vetting question and finding things to do masked and six feet apart is a challenge in itself. COVID, you have awoken in me a loneliness that is so deep it corrodes me. I see my friends, my family, and strangers partnered off and I am jealous. When I share my jealousy I am met with, “Well, we are getting on each other nerves, too.” I am reminded of an episode of The Office where Michael is talking about an obituary and shares his jealousy that at least they had found each other. I get it, Michael Scott. I am with you; at least they have someone.

And now in the midst of the existential crisis you have brought me COVID, I await to hear about school opening. Not a word yet. It is August 4, 2020. Answers would be helpful. I am attempting to move closer to where my son will go to school but I can’t decide where because I don’t know if I am home-schooling or he is going in masked and separated. Both options fill me with fear. It is all too much.

Managing my mood and my recovery has been a full-time job. The drinking meme’s, pictures of people drinking at beaches with no masks cause a feeling that I missing out. It is tough pill to swallow. I don’t want to drink but I want to be at the beach, enjoying the summer. Yet it seems irresponsible to me to be around people who don’t have masks on and I would like to be considered responsible during your long and extended visit.

COVID, I will forever be grateful for you giving me more time with my son. Isn’t that what we all want? More time? But I would like some sort of a life back. I would like my stress to lighten, my heart to not be as heavy as a boulder, and the loneliness to abate. COVID, it is hard to ask for help when your appearance has made everyone fearful for ourselves. I feel that I may be the person carrying your virus without knowing it.

You have made it hard to be a single-mom. I ask you to leave.

Warmest Regards,
Beth Starck


About the Author: Beth Starck is the lucky mama to a beautiful five-year-old boy. She works in human services as a peer specialist and a recovery coach. Beth also moonlights as a waitress. She is applying to graduate schools to pursue her dream of obtaining her MSW so she can continue to advocate for mothers and anyone who needs some extra support in their life. COVID-19 is a struggle, but Beth always remains hopeful that life may turn out far better than imagined.