How Coronavirus changed my volunteering experience!


Coronavirus, coronavirus, coronavirus. I know you don’t want to overhear this word anymore. If I know, why do I pronounce this terrible name again? Maybe it’s because I’m a masochist and want to imagine your sadness while reading my blog; conceivably because I’m looking for a clickbait article; perhaps because if I created this blog, it would be because I need to help myself and through my care for myself I want to help others. No, I’m kidding. I’m just a fucking bastard, and I want to make money with the recent trending topic.

“Oh my God! The humor about this is so cruel!” Guys … seriously. The Coronavirus devastated me and wiped out many of the wonderful aspects of my experience. Sarcasm is the only thing I have in this crap moment. I would have liked talking about this experience step by step, but because of this occasion I have to quickly explain what happened recently, to show you how the Coronavirus fucked up everything. But don’t worry, I will nevertheless write my subsequent articles and in the same order that I planned up to a week ago.

Really … how many people were facing a change before the virus came? For example, personally, I was getting used to living in another country; I was starting to improve my English and my understanding, I was repairing my wellness. Coronavirus is a novelty among many novelties. And my attention is now devoted to 1st year students, soldierly freshmen, to those who were starting a new job, to those who have barely arrived in a new country with a vastly different culture.

Obviously it is so stressful. As usual, I would like talking about my personal experience and how I am dealing with this medieval plague disguised as 21st century problem. As I have already told you, I must summarize a very long journey in a short paragraph. I’ll try. Imagine that you have discovered many ghosts within you. Not a romantic spirit who wants to kiss you while you make a clay pot. But repressed anger, fear, sense of powerless. Imagine discovering that you have a specific problem called social anxiety and therefore re-read your whole past life understanding your behavior and your bad feelings. Imagine that this discovery does not make you feel better because now this monster appears in front of you in all its beauty. Imagine you are not able to stay with people you like. Imagine you decide to take distance from your housemates, that for your are your new family.

Now … Imagine closing yourself in your room. Imagine having to drink on the occasion when you are together with all of them (for example, the birthday of a housemate). Imagine it makes you feel worse. Imagine yelling, drunk, against the boy you fell in love with in the meantime which is trying to help you. Imagine telling him that you prefer not to talk to him, ruining the friendship with him. Imagine, when you’re locked in your room crying, the sound of laughter from your housemates reaches you and makes you feel depressed. Imagine changing jobs. Imagine thanks to this that you establish your routine and you really start taking care of yourself. Imagine improving after weeks and starting to manage social anxiety. Imagine starting to enjoy better than before your housemates/friends company. Imagine telling yourself you want to rebuild your relationship with them.

And you would like to apologize to the guy you like, but at the same time you are full of doubts. If I start talking to him again, maybe I will fall in love again and suffer because I can’t see him as a friend. Maybe that’s not true. Okay … I’ll just wait a little longer. The same with your roommates. I’d like to spend more time with them, but maybe I’m still too fragile to expose myself in this way and I’m afraid that only a small episode can make me collapse. I’ll just wait a little longer.

Very well … but the Coronavirus? Meantime it has arrived, but it is up until now not a urgent problem. The days go by and I feel better and better. I start seriously to spent more time with my friends. And i decide to ask the guy i fell in love to sew up our friendship. Ok … today he is not at home. I will do it tomorrow. Today is not a good idea because he is frightened of the pandemic. The next day my German roommates received an email from Angela Merkel in person. Not really flesh and blood, of course. It’s just a metaphor, come on! Germany proposed them to return to their country. Do not worry. We are not going experiencing another world war. Germany was afraid of her volunteers and decided for them that it was better that they stay close to their families. Now … we were in ten people. Ten guys in a big house. For a while we were even in eleven people. They are not solely housemates. They were my new family. A week before the outbreak of the pandemic, my Italian friend/housemate left because her project was finished. Ok … don’t panic!

In fact there are six of us. I mean … this situation is very sad and strange, but at least we can support each other in the next few days, when we will miss them. Too bad it didn’t turn out that way. Within two hours we had discovered that three people would be gone. And two hours later, two other Spanish volunteers made the same painful decision. In short, in just 4 hours, we discovered that there would be four of us in that huge house, we who were used to being ten people.

Regrets, regrets, regrets! I should have spent more time with them. I should have talked to the guy I fell in love with. I should have gone out with them more often to enjoy the city and have fun with them. My social anxiety did not allow me to enjoy the workouts I did with them.

Unbelievable! Such a strong change and without the time to metabolize it! We cried for two days. Everything in that house reminded us of our roommates. It was so sad to no longer hear the sound of my roommate’s ukulele, not to hear the sound of the shower so often. It was so depressing not to find people in the kitchen to chat with. The two heaviest days of my life.

So how am I reacting? I mean … I built a house of cards and a wind called Coronavirus swept it away! And how many people feel helpless? Sometimes our best is not enough in this life, especially if the circumstances are not positive. For this reason I decided to write this article immediately, to show my reaction to all the people who experience my same situation. Maybe it could be a starting point for your personal solution.

1) First of all, I have not repressed my true feeling. I cried a lot. I went to the empty rooms of my roommates, just to look around and miss them. I have relived many special moments and greeting scenes. I looked at their things. In fact, they didn’t have enough time to bring all their belongings with them, so they decided to leave them at home. I cried until feel sick

2) I allowed myself a good number of tantrums. Did I want to eat chips? Done! Did I want to drink? Done! I was a victim of injustice and I deserve this special treatment. I decide to pamper myself.

3) I decide to react. Happiness is a choice. What makes me feel better in general? I peered into myself. I love to help. I have found that routine is precious to me. It stimulates me to fight for my and other rights. It spurs me, to have short and long term goals. So I decided to lead my housemates towards their well-being. I took responsibility for making them feel better. In this way I also feel better, as I am empowered. I decided to start over with my previous routine. I have decided to involve the girls in the daily struggle to solve small and large problems in our home. I involved them in improving their working conditions. I tried to make them understand how they could feel better. And after the first results the miracle arrived. A type of epiphany. I found my long-term goal and every time I think it, I feel very better.

So maybe you can do this. You should vent your anger and your sadness, you can pamper yourself and as soon as you feel quite better, you have to do all of the things make you feel better. Because in this way I started to watch the thing from another side, the beautiful and helpful side. In this way I became to notice how much lucky I’ve been meeting them. Cry for a friend is not so common and I’ve done it for six people, not just for one. But I understood this only after I decide to take care again on me and … move on! Because we can just move on and move on and move on. Always. Give up is not an available option.


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