The 7 Stages of Corona (Poem)

Elida Abreu

ACM Final Project/Self Portrait

The 7 Stages of Grief: Coronavirus Edition (Poem)

1. SHOCK: Wow, the nerve. How can your own family treat you this way? How can every single little thing be falling apart at the same time too? After all that I’ve been through, is this yet another traumatizing test? All of the time I’ve spent being considerate was forgotten and evaporated into the air like hot steam. If the tables were turned I know people would be shocked if I act similarly to them, terrified even. I had no idea that these people were capable of such malice. I’m so confused that I had to end my year-long relationship today in such a nasty way. My stomach feels as if it cannot sink any lower after hearing such frightening words, seeing such wrongful actions, and witnessing the growing number of senseless deaths in this country at the hands of our incompetent government on the news every day. When life will get back to normal? Will there ever be another normal after what has happened during these times? I am more than shocked, I am severely disturbed.

2. DENIAL: I often emotionally refuse what is causing distress in order to attempt and avoid the inevitable. I hate feeling and if I feel nothing, nothing will affect me. If I can just withdrawal from reality long enough I pray to disappear into thin air. Deep within the vast nothingness of space, I wish I was there. I don’t care anymore who’s putting the blame on me for acting differently. I feel numb within the pit of my soul sometimes. I wish I can go back in time constantly and erase my memory of the past few months. If only life had a fast forward button in order to avoid this turmoil. Is this a message from the earth that we have truly poisoned it far beyond recognition with our presence? Is this payback? I deny taking any part in its demise, I was just trying to live my life.

3. ANGER: This is a catastrophe. I strongly feel and despise the control that this has on me in every way shape and form. I am so mad at myself for not being able to handle this situation or the people around me in a better way. I’ve felt hate towards myself for not being able to open up and forgive more but I also can’t bring myself to do it through all of these obstacles. I am not myself when I am upset but everyone expects me to act like the adult while they put me through childish issues. I have never felt these levels of anxiety in my life and I hate that the most. My heart feels broken. It’s impossible to deal with all of this and being in solitude due to this pandemic. I find it infuriating to be confined within a toxic household with no support and also be dealing with a failing relationship with my now ex-boyfriend. I shall never forgive nor forget this, you have my word. 

4. BARGAINING: I’m struggling to find meaning in all of this. I’ve heard about people killing themselves during this disaster, maybe they had a point. There are way too many things piling up, is it ok? Would it be justifiable? I still remember when I experienced my first wave of suicidal thoughts when I was a teen and coming out of the closet to a conservative mother. The thoughts of existential freedom clouded my judgment and caused me to nearly succeed. I’ve tried reaching out to one of my sisters and vent to my old significant other but they were never able to provide me with actual help. I’m stubborn but I’d do anything at this point for this to be over and to not feel like this.

5. DEPRESSION: I know this feeling too well, my whole body feels cold. I’m guessing this is a reflection of my heart, mind, and soul as well. I feel like I’m watching the world burn from inside my house. Helplessness. The tides of this world drag me in and release me violently onto the jagged rocks at the bottom of the ocean floor. Alone. I deserve it but I don’t feel it. It feels like I’ve been standing in front targets at a shooting range for a while now. Each round piercing my skin while a trail of blood flows. I’m not sure how large this pool of blood at my feet will grow before I begin to sink into my own misery. 

6. TESTING: I have attempted to revert back to things that I know can bring me some form of gratification and force myself to put my all into them. Art, music, video games. Smoking used to be my go-to mental therapy but I’ve had to switch gears due to being unable to head outside with such frequency. I’ve also tried looking into different forms of treatment like silent meditation, long hot showers, and massaging my head. They have each resulted in different levels of temporary ease from the internal despair. I hope and wish to return to feeling like I am living a meaningful life. 

7. ACCEPTANCE: Once I became barricaded within the enclosure of my mental and physical torture I slowly began to discover a glimmer of hope in the cracks of its foundation. Music was one of the main sources of relief from this chaos. It served as more than just a distraction, it is an escape. I will forever value its beneficial impact during one of the most difficult times of my life. The glimmer of hope was in the form of finally being able to attain true solace from me to me thanks to music. True independent and sufficient emotional support was on the way. One of the greatest gifts you can give to yourself during the ups and downs of life is emotional self-reliance. Surprisingly, a reservoir of assurance was bubbling amidst the grand dark clouds of my uneasiness. 

Artist Statement for my poetry

The form of my content is in a written poetic form in relation to my experiences during the COVID-19 global crisis and social distancing orders taking place at the moment. In its purest form, my final project is practically my feelings journal split up into seven emotional sections also generally categorized as “the stages of grief”. The model of these stages was first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross who became a psychiatrist after she graduated from the University of Chicago's medical school. She gained inspiration to create this model after closely working with ill patients on their death beds and after noticing a lack of emotional instructions provided by her school on the subject of sentimental consolidation for those who were dying. This drove her to write a book about the stages of grief and turmoil in order to bring awareness to the emotional aspect of the subject and help others, it was titled “On Death and Dying” and published in 1969. Due to the fact that she had a deep understanding of this topic, she was able to categorize the turbulent and erratic emotions that attack the conscious and subconscious of the human mind, utilizing countless therapy sessions and personal testimonies. Later on, Kübler-Ross mentioned how the model was not to be interpreted as linear and didn't exactly demonstrate “how” people grieved step by step. Instead, the stages and model fluctuates depending on the individual and was meant to generally show what may occur over a period of time during the process of death. 

The 2nd part of the content within my self-portrait refers to the profound impact the novel, “Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions” by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, had on me after reading it again recently during this pandemic. Adichie influenced me greatly during the semester when I first read this book to the point that I began to recommend and share this with my friends. For some reason after revisiting it throughout these new circumstances and with a different mindset it almost made me break down in tears. The messages behind her words felt more dreadful and impactful after noticing how much my own upbringing was failing me at the moment and in general before these tough times. Being forced to be at home and unable to visit others has heightened and worsened problems within my households in ways I could not have imagined or deal with. I am now depressed. Mass hysteria has taken over the minds of those who have raised me and has forced me to feel stuck with the abusive character which is my older sister with zero help or a way out. I cherished the fact that this precious knowledge from the book was engraved in my mind but at the same time had to stop reading in order to pull myself together. Also while reading this book for a second time, I felt a burning desire and longing to have had this kind of mother and father figure to raise me and my sisters with these principals, confidence, and trusting freedoms. In the end, I wondered if I was raised with these suggestions in mind as a child if it would have changed how I deal with stress now and even if I would be experiencing anything that I am going through right now. Those two questions simply haunt me now since I have been unable to answer them, but writing does help me as much as it can. 

This is the reason why I have decided to create my self-portrait in a written form, to help myself and get it all out of my mind temporarily. I think of this as self-reflection. I think it is important to self-reflect even at my lowest point so that I can look back in the future at my pain and unrelenting sorrow. Self-reflection is mentioned briefly in both the seven stages of grief and the feminist manifesto by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and it is perfectly understandable as to why that is. This is how my poem and my references relate, it is extremely vital to always self evaluate yourself during rough times and especially taught that as a child. It is also very important to notice when you are experiencing grief, depression, and dangerous thoughts rather than ignoring them as I used to.

Sources: https://www.psycom.net/depression.central.grief.html & Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie