Thanks for bringing up 1918 and 1919, arfie, because it may be ancient history to lots of folks but it's direct family history to me as my maternal grandfather sat me down and passed it on to me in person when I was a young adult. HE was a young adult in 1918 and he got caught up in THAT pandemic and nearly died from it. I wouldn't be here if he hadn't struggled through it and recovered, so I felt a debt of gratitude to him and when this pandemic hit now I decided to try to stand in the family tradition he set forth and do what was necessary to get through this one, too.

It's been hard to figure out, though, as you say, and it seems in part due to how hard the virus mutations themselves are hard to figure out. But whenever I'm tempted to just throw my hands up and give up I remember my grandfather didn't and so I go back to giving paying attention to the latest another try, confusing as it may be. If history is any guide, this wasn't the first pandemic and it won't be the last, so we can learn about how to go forward from each, right?

I surely wish it was over Arf.... It seems like it's going on forever huh?.... Very disturbing for sure.... Big hug sweetie... Prayers for the world sent.... xo

the 1918/19 pandemic was news to me and i have formally studied pandemic management in my biology studies. i stumbled on this particular article in early coronaville and was more than a little surprised to read of it. my very first wonder was if this was what caused the great depression. repressed trauma can create a great many depressions, etc., both individual and collective. my ptsd awareness has me pretty convinced that a great depression would be a direct result of the collective decision to repress.

down here in cow country, it is pretty much over. the local mindset never fully embraced the W.H.O. model of pandemic management and we do allot of pandemic management --both plant and animal-- in the ag biz. the masks we are seeing locally often have matching cowboy boots and ten gallon hats. what bus did you ride in on, partner? ya going home soon?

but the collective silence still reigns. . . let's just pretend the past 2 years never happened. just mask it all. . .

My perspective on the depression and trauma as a society is I feel a separation from it. Even though I was a part of it. I was going through really awful PTSD symptoms during the time it started and there were a lot of life changes in my life, that I don't think I really registered the affects of the pandemic.

Its a weird feeling to have and I am not sure it will affect me personally. I think with all the digital information, I don't think people are choosing to forget I just think the politics really brought a lot of people down because it was so poorly mishandled and all the fake information about Covid 19. It was one of the many contributors as to why I got rid of facebook.

almost ditto for me, pinea. in addition to ptsd, i was isolated with the grief of losing my youngest son and inheriting 3 very young and heavily traumatized orphans. i am 40 odd years down recovery road for the ptsd piece of the puzzle, but the masked wisdom mandated that i through 40 odd years of psychotherapy out the window in order to isolate with severe, present day trauma. corona still doesn't feel like the meanest pathogen in my personal petri dish, but. . . if it ain't covid, the maskites don't care. . .

my psychotherapy wasn't very effective in altering my child prostitute's social distancing skills. social isolation remains my preferred state. i believed the shrinks the first time around when they said i needed to work on that. after 2 1/2 years i'm more than willing to believe the powers that be when they say social distancing is a good thing. none of those powers have rescinded that mandate.

Yeah, in a weird way being tortured by that military patrol when I was a missionary kid and the way it set me apart actually prepared me for the isolation of lockdown in this pandemic. The torture incident started when me and my 4 buddies were walking down my suburban street on a sunny, quiet Sunday afternoon. We didn't know that the new military dictatorship had sent out military patrols all over town that day to murder all of the union leaders in the country that day. That was why there was a military patrol that day in my quiet residential neighborhood when there usually wouldn't have been patrols there, especially not a on Sunday in the summer.

What set me apart was chance. The military patrol's truck burst out of its hiding place behind us in a vacant lot overgrown with weeds. The other three boys jumped out of the way to right right as it bore down on us from behind. I jumped to the left, which was the driver's side of the truck where the officer driving it got out, and that set me apart. He chose me on the spot to be the one to be tortured on his knees on the street while the other 3 were made to watch me get tortured. When they released us, that set me apart still for the rest of my youth with them and now for the rest of my life.

Trauma does that, I learned. So it means a lot that those of us set apart by trauma get together like we do here at DSPTSD and get so close in support of one another. It's really special.

in my own case, the governmental demand to isolate fed the ptsd urge to isolate mightily. here in the end stages, the silence is deafening and feeding my hypervigilance even more than the vociferous mandate chaos. nobody likes to talk about child prostitution, war victims, etc., either. silence is golden? none of that is **my** fault.

dunno. . . i don't even know if the government has blessed the closing of the social distances, but i'm even less sure i want to close them, if the option is even available. i am less sure than ever that i even **want** to fit in.

Oh, hypervigilance is simply exhausting to me, arfie, so for covid distancing and all that is causing that I'm sending you extra daily strength for it today. Whew!

ty muji. support both needed and appreciated.

maybe i really am the only person on the planet who has been muddled by all this. wish i could **just get over it**. it's as right as drugs in a kiddie whorehouse. those ^its^ all look alike. just just ^it^ all.

I had a rough couple of days as my legs got knocked out from under me with neuropathy from kidney disease from that overprescription of PTSD meds. But 2 days of analgesic cream applied topically let me stand up today, so I'm back. Thinking of you and the kids these days, arfie, and sending you lots of support for this one.

glad you're feeling better, muji.
analgesic rubs help my geezer aches, too. arthritis and old war wounds are the meanest of mine. for my legs, i especially like the pepper rubs. last i knew, mexico had rich variety of pepper rubs. they aren't so great for the hands because they will burn like the devil on soft tissues like eyes and mouth.