There’s an opinion piece by Timothy Egan in this morning’s New York Times entitled “The Next 3 Months Are Going to Be Pure Hell.” He’s not so much referring to what the winter will be like for people who get sick with or lose loved ones to the coronavirus, or even those suffering economic adversity. He’s talking about the mental and emotional toll of the pandemic on everyone else as a consequence of being prisoners in our own homes, a lack of social contact, and the challenges of juggling full-time childcare and full-time jobs.
I’ve made similar observations in this blog a couple of times over the last few months, particularly in a post on July 1. So it was surprising when, as I read Egan’s piece, I realized that I no longer believe that we’re in for a hellish winter.
To be sure, Egan makes a compelling case. He writes,
During the coronavirus pandemic, the number of adults exhibiting symptoms of depression has tripled, and alcohol consumption has risen. We are prisoners of our homes and our minds, Zoom-fatigued, desperate for social contact. As a nation, we are diminished and exhausted . . .
But that was before we had a vaccine. We human beings have a peculiar attribute: our experience of life is less a function what’s happening at the moment than it is of the future we’re living into. No matter how dire the current circumstances, we are much happier when we have confidence that the future will be brighter. And now, by virtue of the recent vaccine approvals, the future that Americans are living into is an end to the pandemic. Yes, we will still be shut in, isolated and Zoom-fatigued over the next few months, the winter days will be just as short and cold as they would have been had there been no vaccine approvals, and few of us will be going out to dinner or to the movies. But the difference now is that we know the end to all of that is coming.
This is not to say that the next few months won’t be grim indeed for the tens of thousands of people who become severely ill from Covid-19 and for those who lose loved ones to the disease, as well as for those enduring economic hardship, eviction and hunger. It will also be harrowing for those whose work puts them at risk of catching the virus before they are vaccinated. But for the rest of us, I don’t believe this winter will be an oppressive one. I expect that the surge of depression and despair will actually ease.
We are likely the only species capable of being either burdened or buoyed by that which has not yet happened. When measured by the number of daily infections, hospitalizations, and even deaths, the worst of the pandemic may still lie ahead, but when it comes to its toll on our national psyche, I suspect that the worst is behind us.