My husband works weird hours, so sometimes he's home long enough to spend some time with me. And sometimes he has to go to bed as soon as he gets home because his work stupidly scheduled his next shift only 10 hours after he got off work. And then the next day he's so exhausted from the upheaval, he sleeps most of the day.
You get out even more than I do. I'm trapped because I have so many risk factors for COVID that I'm still wary of going out in public, even vaxxed and masked. I just can't take the risk of getting it. Dying, I could handle--I mean, what choice would there be? It's long COVID that terrifies the bejesus out of me, so I stick to home.
As for days of wondering why I'm still alive...?
I quit wondering about that sometime in my 30s. I'm alive because, well, what's the alternative? Life sort of became putting one foot in front of the other, and just getting on with it. Nobody said it was going to be easy or fun or a laugh a minute. Just getting through this one day or even this one moment of time, without making a colossal mess of things--that became enough. I learned to appreciate something so small as getting through a day without f'ing up my life.
I also find things to get into that take me outside of myself, even if they're silly, shallow things like finding a cool new nail polish. I do creative writing. I journal. I go on binges of finding and reading, say, only books about 14th century France, or Japan in the 1950s. Or only murder mysteries written by lesbians. Or finding weird music--one time I went on a binge of hunting down Algerian pop music videos on Youtube. Yeah, it's a thing.
These little things keep me occupied and happy. I realized at some point that I find my bliss by making my bliss.
= new reply since forum marked as read