What Home Has Come To Mean To Me In 2020
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Health and Wellness

What Home Has Come To Mean To Me In 2020

An ode to my home that is keeping me and my family safe, trapped, and separated all at once.

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What Home Has Come To Mean To Me In 2020

As fears of an online fall semester become realities for many universities, I have begun my mourning process of an already lost summer. Simply put, 2020 is looking to be 'cancelled'. Quarantine is difficult, and can mean different things at different times. At the center of quarantine is home, and what it has come to represent for me this past month or so.

In the mornings, my home feels like a sanctuary. I feel rested, sometimes anxious, sometimes hopeful. Either way, it's a new beginning. I start the day off by going downstairs and making myself a cup of coffee, and perusing the fridge. This is perhaps the most enjoyable part of my day. I think about all of the things I want to do in this house, and all the things I have to do. There is so much that can happen, but at the same time so little.

Then comes lunch time. I feel strange since the weight of productivity hits me hard, and I feel like I really need to get started on work now. My parents are in their own rooms, doing their own work. I hear some children outside, and feel like I'm wasting away a little. My house becomes suffocating. The sun is so nice outside. I could go outside. I might. But it'll just be a little stroll, and probably by myself which makes me not want to go out. My parents are still working, you see. All the things I had wanted and had to do, become harder to do. My home is a cage, but I locked myself up.

The evening comes, and I feel terrible for only accomplishing the bare minimum that was due that day. I wish I got to talk to my Mom more. It's weird though, she's in the same house as I am the whole day. I can't help too much with dinner since I'm completing the work I should have finished earlier and now it's also my fault for not spending more time with my parents. My home at this time is stressful, a reminder of the life I keep postponing -- in the midst of all the time I have.

Lastly, my home is a privilege. It's easy to only complain about sitting inside, but it's a simple request made by healthcare workers who work around the clock to keep us safe. At night for some reason in particular, I think about all of the people who are homeless or who rely on shelters. My home is a place of refuge that I no longer take for granted.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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