COVID changed realities – forever?

Prof. Robert van Voren – Vytautas Magnus University

I am sitting at my desk in Vilnius, looking at a pile of unsorted cards lying in a corner. Among them are fast-track passes for several airports, airport lounge cards and “premium” or “platinum” cards of airline companies. Only a year ago these cards were essential items in my wallet, and now they have not only lost all meaning but even seem like historical relics that no longer belong to me. Instead, my wallet now holds discount cards for supermarket chains and one for the pet shop, probably the most used nowadays.

My life has changed fundamentally, and it will surely never be the same. My last flight out of Vilnius was a year ago, and since then I have only traveled by car and ferry. Just over a year ago I purchased a new fast track card for Vilnius airport, yet I never picked it up. Now it has already expired, unused, and I doubt I will ever buy one again.

I am not the only one whose life has changed drastically, I am sure. And although there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel, the big question is whether these changes will remain permanent or quickly fade away. In my case, I think I know the answer. For me the “abnormal” has unexpectedly brought a “normal” life, with a regular daily rhythm, without waking up at 4 or 5 in the morning to catch a plane to London knowing I will be back some twenty hours later. I start the day with walking the dog, a new and unexpected source of happiness in life, and then…

Yes, then I also succumb to one of the not so normal aspects of this new “normality”, one that I hope will soon end: the zooming from one meeting to the other, without having time to digest and carry out the tasks that were promised during the meeting because the next one is already waiting. After six or seven zooms, a dark cloud of fatigue hangs over one’s eyes and a deadened brain craves for something other than one-dimensional faces on a computer screen. The worst of all are the teaching sessions, one-dimensional events without any real human interaction, with students who refuse to turn on their cameras and sometimes do not answer to questions because they have turned on their screens but are not actually participating. You keep on talking into a black hole, and all the fun of teaching peters out and adds on to the feeling of being zoomified.

For sure, the forced introduction of on-line meetings has its positives, and like many others I know, I have come to understand that many of the trips I took were not really necessary and could have been handled by video-conferencing. Yet I also notice that, after a year, not only my personal social life has been stifled, but also the inability to really meet potential partners, colleagues or friends has gradually had a paralyzing effect. Conferences have gone virtual, but the result is that people often don’t really participate but are instead doing e-mails or household chores in the meantime, turning their camera on and off to hide their lack of participation and probable lack of real interest. The creativity stemming from meetings, where innovative ideas are formed during networking hours over coffee or a glass of wine, has mostly disappeared, and instead one zooms through the day hoping for a nice glass of wine afterwards, and of course the daily evening walk with the newly purchased dog.

Virtually all the people I know have seen their mental health affected by the COVID pandemic’s consequences, and in most cases negatively. Physically some people might have become healthier, due to less stress caused by travel and traffic-jam commuting, and instead going for long nature walks, reading books or having new or rediscovered hobbies. But what is also lost is the fun part of traveling, the discovery of new destinations and the social part of international conferences. Even commuting had its advantages, the possibility of sitting in your car for several hours and contemplating life’s challenges. A new “fad” has appeared called “fake commuting”: you pretend that you go to work and take a walk in your neighborhood, instead of accepting this total merger of home and the workplace. Indeed, one consequence of working at home is that this essential separation between home and work melts away and, before you know it, your day starts with downloading your e-mails even before you had had your first coffee. It is addictive, and just as hazardous as smoking or too much alcohol.

The mental health consequences of restrictions related to the pandemic were still unknown last spring, when the “new normal” was met with a certain level of excitement, and zooming was still fun and a sort of exploration into the unknown. When the Federation Global Initiative on Psychiatry and Vytautas Magnus University started its “Mind the Gap” campaign to oppose the concept of “social distancing” and tried to have it replaced by “physical distancing and social solidarity”, it was met with hesitation by many. It was seen as merely a play with words and not as a warning about the dire consequences the restrictions would have on all of us, but especially those who were already socially isolated to begin with. Now, almost a year later, virtually all media outlets report on the issue of COVID-19 and mental health, multiple studies have been undertaken and committees have been formed to detail the consequences and formulate ways to negate the fallout.

In short, it is now evident that this “new normal” is not so normal after all, and even though we might wish that COVID-19 was a wake-up call and that some of the worst excesses of pre-COVID life will be altered, at the same time, we must feverishly hope that the “old normal” will return to a large degree and give us a chance to negate the impact all this has had on our mental health. However, I have no doubt that bringing normality will take years, and some of the scars of COVID-19 will remain with us forever.