What’s on Lucy’s iPhone Camera Roll: A Self-Isolation Diary from the U.S.
That 2020 is not shaping up to be the year (or the start of a new decade) that many of us hoped it would be, is a massive understatement. But before the world has been faced with a once-in-a-century global pandemic though, I was already sort of “going through it.”
My plan for the holidays at the end of last year was to stay with my dad at my parents’ home in North Carolina. Like most people, I would wind down the clock of 2019 and January would be a fresh start. Instead, I spent the last couple of weeks of 2019 sitting in the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh with my mum and sister watching my grandad pass away. It was not sudden. But it was also not expected. For the first weeks of 2020, I sat with my mother in a funeral home helping her plan services for her father. We discussed wood stains for the coffin. We edited a draft of the obituary I had written and which date it should run in the Edinburgh Evening News.
I kept telling myself, Just get through this. Just get back to Portland. Just get through January and the year can move on. February will be a fresh start.
Well, February was filled with more personal obstacles to endure that I won’t get into, other than to say I gave myself a similar mental affirmation. Just get through February. March will be a fresh start, I told myself.
A self-isolation self-portrait.
By mid-March, I felt like I was grounded. I began running regularly again and I felt in control of my body for the first time in months, maybe a year, since moving back to the States and starting a new job. Mentally and emotionally, I worked on cleaning house. I had spent the last two years between New York and London to now Portland, and I needed to recenter. Despite a rough start and essentially “writing off” January and February, I finally felt like I was above water.
Of course, the news of COVID-19 was present and growing in the background to all this. I listen to the New York Times’ podcast “The Daily” and read the online paper daily regularly along with New York magazine. I consider myself someone who’s informed without an over consumptive news diet. As cases grew and the locations they were reported also spread, it seemed to be like this far off wave you could see approaching the shore.
Until, eventually, it was not.
Maybe because I work in sports, or being a part of SEASON zine, but when the NBA suspended the season immediately on March 11, that felt like the moment it really shifted for me. Even though Serie A had taken the same measures a few days prior, overnight, it felt like the tone changed. The following day was the last day I spent at the office. Suddenly, everything felt real. And uncertain.
So what does this all have to do with my grandfather’s passing?
Well, it’s interesting to me that even in a global pandemic, something that is truly impacting the entire human race, it’s is still happening in 7.8 billion different ways. I felt the same way about losing my grandad. Grief is something we universally share as humans and yet, no one will ever understand. Is it both an overcrowded party and overwhelming loneliness.
I also say all of this to maybe acknowledge my own privileges in this situation. In a weird way, I feel I’m fortunate to have had the beginning to 2020 that I did. I had the reality check that a perfect, fresh start to a new year and decade just wasn’t going to happen. For me emotionally and mentally, it’s felt like an easier transition towards and acceptance of this unprecedented situation. Because by the first week of 2020, I had already lost control of “my planned 2020.” I gave myself time and grace that I’d get it back eventually.
And it’s what I’m telling myself once again.
Of course, I’m aware of other privileges. I’m employed. I have a safe living situation. I’m in a smaller city. I not only appreciate silence and solitude — I often seek it out. I’m grateful to be in this position during a near-global self-isolation policy. I know many are not as fortunate.
My experience, like everyone else out there, is unique to me. But we share, in hopes that despite our individual experiences, we know that we’re not alone. Simply “going through it” can be our commonality.
When I was asked to write an essay about what this lockdown has been like in the U.S., I tried to reflect, but nearly a month of self-isolation, the days blurred together. So much of my life revolved around football and now, it’s suddenly gone (in the traditional sense). Weeks are no longer anchored by match days or checking the league table and fixtures. Instead, it’s did I watch Tiger King two days ago or two weeks ago? Is it Thursday or Friday? How long have I actually been indoors?
Then I looked at my iPhone camera roll and there it was. A mindless journal. I scrolled through my unconscious documenting of life inside. Evidence that new routines were forming and my lifestyle was changing.
With that, here’s a selection of photos and screenshots in the last month. One person’s experience. And all I can tell myself is, just get through this, and there will be a fresh start. Eventually.
Thursday March 12
The first quarantine meme. Here’s the thing: I often use humour during uncomfortable or difficult situations. I sent this to my friend Matt, as it grew clear that more of us would be ordered to self-isolate. (Note the Disney closure notification.) That would end up being my last day in my office and the beginning of navigating the awkwardness of video conference calls. (PS the amount of screenshot memes on my phone was … alarming. Most being about dogs. Something I’m reevaluating at this time. Thank you.)
Friday March 13
I decided whatever happens, it’s probably best to be prepared. So early in the morning, I went to get groceries. Nothing felt out of the ordinary considering the headlines. These two were sitting outside. Like sending memes, sending dog photos is not an unusual habit of mine. What has changed is being able to stop and ask to pet other peoples' dogs. Excited for the days when I can do that again.
After meeting a friend for lunch later in the day, I went to Powell’s Books to stock up on another necessity: quarantine reading. Powell’s is the largest independent bookstore in the world. The haul was good timing — Powell’s closed the store two days later. That really felt like things were getting more serious. For those who can, you can support them here.
March 16
I cook now? Also, my plants are my only companions.
March 17
Also on the self-isolation survival guide: a good playlist selection. Disco — particularly that of Robin, Barry and Maurice — now fills my days, along with 90s rap and RnB. Can you ever be sad while listening to disco?
A friend of mine made a presentation for her parents about the importance of staying home and to #flattenthecurve. This time has really felt like a shift in my own relationship with my mum and dad, or maybe just my realisation and acceptance of their mortality and age. I think it’s a reality they’ve faced as well. For so long they’ve been the head of households, taking care of our grandparents, making sure I’m a functioning adult. Now, they’re the “vulnerable.”
March 18
All news is local. This is one of the Portland publications, Willamette Weekly. I took this and sent to my friend because everything still felt weirdly on a distant horizon and I was (perhaps naively) surprised to see a cover so quickly and, in a way, so alarmist devoted to coronavirus.
March 20
My uncle texted me a photo of his new dog, Jimmy. A week later, my uncle texted me to tell me he’d tested positive for coronavirus. He’s going three times a week for dialysis already so it’s terrifying to think what the next weeks may look like.
March 21
Only a week later and the scene outside Whole Foods first thing in the morning looks very different. I had been told that for the first hour, the store was only open to elderly patrons and those who are immunocompromised, so took this photo whilst waiting outside.
When the doors finally slid open, more than one man charged right in. A clear reminder of the growing fear and the response some people are having. Walking down aisles feels like a weird game of chicken — do you move? Or should I? Are we being crazy? Or not cautious enough?
March 22
Hi. I am a Libra. Translation: OF COURSE I’D REARRANGE MY FURNITURE BY WEEK TWO.
This is my friend Trelawny. This is how I visit her now.
March 23
So, one highlight of this whole thing is that I’ve fallen in love with running again. It’s my only time outside and clears my head. Halfway through my regular route, I pass this building for a sign company. On this day, I stopped to take this picture of the new banner they’d hung up.
I feel my body getting stronger. My pace getting faster. That and this sign is a good reminder that progress does happen, even if we can’t see it right away.
March 28
I’ve tried to really avoid mass consumption of shows or movies. I’m almost beginning to enjoy the break from football? I don’t have a television, which means I can avoid the non-stop cable news coverage. I have a routine of listening to The Daily podcast every morning and checking The New York Times and New York magazine every day. However, Working Girl was a MUST on this night.
March 29
Edit: I also binged all episodes of Tiger King in one sitting. As did the rest of the world.
A splurge I’ve always had that has become all the more necessary in self-isolation is buying flowers. They make me happy.
I’ve also tried to support local businesses that have had to close their brick and mortar locations as much as I can. One of my favourite coffee shops in Portland, Never, has bottled its speciality lattes for pick up. I drive over on a Sunday and grab few for the week.
March 31
On February 21, I opted in for a free trial of Headspace. On March 21, I forgot to cancel was enrolled for an annual subscription. On this date, this meme suddenly became very, very relatable.
Sidenote: I’ve always been a terrible sleeper, but with all this time at home, I’m trying to commit to meditating every morning and evening and taking a sleep course.
April 1
Tiger King has really filled a lot of my time indoors. The gift that truly keeps on giving.
Amongst the late-night existential questions and Google searches after ending the month of March in solitude: Do I need to invest in luxury pyjamas and loungewear?
April 2
This is me FaceTiming with SEASON zine’s football associate (and uLtiMaTe sPorTs fAn), Florence Lloyd-Hughes. To be honest, I have minimal group chats and have only participated in one non-work Zoom hangout. So as an introvert who prefers solitude, 1:1 FaceTimes are ace.
We have a weekly meeting with the SEASON team. Conversations have shifted from who will win the Premier League, to whether it will come back.
I’ve been trying to keep food delivery to a minimum of once a week and only when I really can’t bring myself to cook another meal. I use Caviar because I read that they’ve supplied their staff with gloves and sanitiser and there are a few local restaurants on it that have started online deliveries to maintain business.
While I want to support, I feel guilty after reading delivery workers talking about how unsafe they feel. I’m finding myself removing containers and wiping everything down or assessing whether it’s safe to touch a cardboard box or my mail. It’s hard to know these days what is safe precaution and what is over-anxiety and irrational fear.
April 5
This is me FaceTiming my friend, Holly. Since being self-isolated in London, she’s been tending a family allotment in London.
On the right is my friend’s dog, Turkey.
Really looking forward to the days where I can see my friends and their dogs (mostly their dogs) again.
Words and photography: Lucy McCalmont