Vaccinated
I’d never been so excited to have a needle in my arm.
But I was so thrilled the night before I got my first shot of Pfizer that I barely slept. I couldn’t wait to go to the convention center, even though there wasn’t going to be a convention there, to get my shot along with my dad as soon as our state opened up to 16+.
The process ended up being easy – we were in and out very quickly, and I received a “I got my Fauci ouchie” sticker to show off. It was an easy process, and the same was true when I came back three weeks later for my second shot. My only side effect was fatigue the next day, but I was still able to stay awake for Dungeons & Dragons that night after a hot fudge sundae.
As excited as I was to get vaccinated, things started to feel weird once I got my second shot. I heard so many opinions from so many people about where and when I should wear a mask; whether I should be allowed to do things like eat outdoors or indoors at a restaurant, see a movie, and hang out inside one of my favorite stores; or return to Chicago.
Now that I’m several weeks after my second shot, I’m doing my best to figure out what the “new normal” looks like. I have many contrasting desires – safety for myself and others comes first, but I am also missing things like gathering with friends, attending events at my local game store, and, of course, giant conventions with thousands of people.
The conventions are likely going to have to wait a while (although I’m holding out hope for Chicago Comic and Entertainment Expo in December), but the other things are a lot more ambiguous. I’ve found myself wondering what’s safe for me to do with my vaccinated friends, and these decisions are a lot more relevant now that I have returned to Chicago
When I was with my parents, I had social contact every day even without leaving the house, but now, if I want to have social contact in person, it’s up to me to decide what’s safe. This has been somewhat anxiety-provoking, a phenomenon many people are experiencing right now.
I’ve heard it called “re-entry anxiety,” and for me, it set in once the immediate worry of catching COVID-19 or spreading it to an unvaccinated family member dissipated. Once my family was vaccinated – and I was the last one – some old fears of change started creeping in.
I’ve never been good at change, and no matter how much I miss certain things, it was hard for me to come to the decision to leave my family and go back to Chicago. I felt torn between being used to daily in-person socialization and missing my independence and my friends. I ended up compromising, waiting a little while after I got vaccinated to go back, and now as I settle back in, I am trying to figure out how to balance these needs in a new world.
Normally, when I go back to living alone after an extended visit with family, I try to take very good care of my emotional needs by making a lot of plans. I’ve tried to do that virtually this time, but after living with my family for longer than I’ve done since I left for college, I still feel strange to be by myself and create my own routine. It’s something I’ve done before, but not in a world like this, and with uncertainty comes anxiety.
When I prepared for coming back, I made my best effort to make as many virtual plans as possible – three events in the first weekend alone. But that’s not sustainable for every weekend, and it falls to me to figure out how to create a balance between my usual routine and what makes sense for these new times.
It’s hard for me to not have even a vague idea of what the world or even just my everyday routine will look like, because I’m normally a person who’s most calm when I know the general roadmap of how things work. Without knowing things like when (or if) I’ll be returning to my office, seeing my friends, or doing activities I enjoy, life feels strange.
I think it’s important to talk about feelings like these, especially since so many people are experiencing them. As more people get vaccinated and make their forays into the world at large, it’s important to not sweep re-entry anxiety under the rug. Talking about this very common form of anxiety may help people become open to more conversations about mental health, which would be useful to many people as we figure out what the post-COVID world will look like.
Ellie, a writer new to the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.