Preface for everything that follows: where I live (Ontario) seems like it’s still not out of the woods. I am not commenting on where we are or what policies should be lifted tomorrow.

Now:

As we (slowly and safely) move out of these last lockdowns, open the world back up and return to the lives we used to live, I think we’re going to see a global case of Stockholm Syndrome. You know what—I’m going to stop there and say: if that trivializes a serious psychological disorder, my bad. It’s not the literal same as a hostage situation, but things might get weird here.

Stockholm Syndrome occurs when victims bond with their captors. I don’t think anyone will say they’ve “bonded” with the pandemic, but we’ve gotten so used to life in quarantine that many of us will be reluctant to leave.

And no, I’m not just referring to meme’s about people having to put on pants again when they go to work; or hanging out with friends in public instead of their cats on the couch.

I actually don’t think it’s a joke.

I think a giant chunk of us are going to have a really hard time adjusting back to things opening up. I say that because I think I feel it myself.

I look at things opening up elsewhere in the world, and I feel…upset. I see fans in the stands at sporting events and I…don’t like it. Part of that is jealousy, sure. Part of it is genuine concern about the disease spreading. But I don’t know…something else is going on as well. It’s almost a knee-jerk gut reaction of: “you shouldn’t be doing that.”

It’s just…weird to see hundreds of people inside without a care in the world. It’s weird in an almost inarticulable way. (But this is a blog post so I have to try articulating it.)

Maybe now’s the time where I say: “I’m not a doctor.”

There, with that out of the way:

We’ve adjusted to locked-down life. More than that, we’ve started to think something about this is right; crowded bars, busy supermarket isles, dinner parties are wrong. We’ll still complain about the things we’re forbidden to do; we’ll still talk about all we’ll do when our freedoms return; but there’s just this silent voice in our head that says we should avoid people. Isolating—or at least limiting interactions—is better.

This won’t be felt by everyone, and most of us who do feel something of it won’t be devastated, but it’s something to watch out for. As news emerges that it’s safe to go outside, we’ll need to listen to our responses. I expect a lot of hesitancy in the coming months.

Maybe some hesitancy is right. If your mayor says it’s safe before the scientific community does, it’s reasonable to move slowly.

But eventually: people will agree it’s time. What will our inner dialogue say then? I expect some resistance from myself. Unwarranted resistance, I should say. I expect to push back against emerging guidelines stating I can embrace my freedom. I spent the whole pandemic saying, “I’ll just trust the scientific advice,” and now I wonder if I’ll abandon that strategy here at the finish line.

That’s all just the “me” stuff. Here’s another thing to watch out for: self-righteousness.

That’s another thing emerging as I see people flock to hockey arenas in Nashville, Carolina, Florida, Boston, and soon-to-be Montreal (unless the Leafs win in 5, of course)—not to mention that massive crowd around Phil Mickelson at the PGA championship. Groups gather, and I feel compelled to condemn them. They’re doing the “wrong” thing. But I don’t know what their numbers are like. Having just checked: Nashville is doing pretty damn good. There haven’t been any spikes since the NHL playoffs; Tennessee’s 7-day average is steadily decreasing and is much lower than ours in Ontario.

I didn’t know that. I didn’t even really care about the numbers. It just felt wrong to see all those people together. It was so easy to say, “silly Americans behaving irresponsibly.” I don’t know what percentage of hockey-goers are vaccinated. It didn’t matter when making my judgements, because at this point, I’m not fully rational about the whole situation. I’m a little brainwashed—conditioned into thinking crowds are bad.

That’s adjacent to some conspiracy-theory rhetoric. I don’t mean it like that. This isn’t any sort of #Plandemic rant about intentional social conditioning. This is just the consequence of being fed the same, “crowds are bad,” line every day for over four-hundred consecutive days. That thought is in there now.

Heyy, full circle—I made a post a few weeks ago about belief & faith. I said you have to repeat something you wish to believe over and over again until you no longer have to. The thing you once had to choose to believe becomes ingrained. Now you just believe it.

That’s what’s happened. We were told—over and over and over—to isolate. We listened to that line along with all the rational reasons behind it. We chose to listen and believe it to be right. Now, we don’t need the reasons. We don’t need to be told. It’s in there. We believe it, and now we’ll need to deliberately root it out.

Maybe you don’t have that issue. But maybe a friend will. Maybe some kids you know will. (Sheesh, I can’t imagine that.) People around you might be reactive. And other people might be…impatient with them. I can already see the callous, “get over it, the pandie’s over” messages now.

So, as is always my message: empathize. We should probably all get some therapy after what we’ve been through. Those who feel unfazed are surely still affected to some degree; and others will most-certainly be a little banged up. Try to be understanding.