By Jennifer Scott

It’s undeniable that the COVID-19 pandemic has tested us in ways that we never could have imagined. Life as we knew it had all but ended, and we’ve been forced to adapt to what is now known as the new normal. Yet we’re already starting to find that there is no dearth to human ingenuity and creativity in the face of this adversity. And with no end to the pandemic just yet, we can only anticipate more in the days, weeks, and months ahead.

Here’s what you can learn—and make use of—so far to make life just a little bit easier in these trying times, and even save a pretty penny while you’re at it.

You do you.
Coping mechanisms vary from person to person, so what may work for some may be completely ineffectual for others. This is why it’s important to remember to embrace the notion of you do you—that is to say, do what feels good, right, and comforting for you at any given moment.

If the pandemic has you feeling anxious or depressed, and you're looking to seek help, consider exploring the holistic services offered by Radiate Wellness. From life coaching to energy healing, we can help you improve your health and wellbeing.

Additionally, The News Tribune explains that if there’s a silver lining that’s observable in this pandemic, it’s that of empty animal shelters. This is because many have taken to adopting or fostering pets as companions while they’re stuck at home. Science supports that pets can provide emotional support to those in need.

Keeping yourself busy is also another great way to spend time at home. It’s more than wise, therefore, to explore new hobbies that also help fend off anxiety and depression. You can even start a new career by working remotely—not only to keep yourself productive, distracted, and challenged, but also to supplement your income during this financially troubled time. While working, you can also expand your educational background by applying for an online degree program. If you're interested in advancing in the information technology field, for example, you can work on obtaining a master's degree in IT and earn certifications during the program. These can help you stand out in the field and increase your chances of getting a job with a higher salary.

DIY is king.

The pandemic continues to keep many businesses closed. This runs the gamut from fitness centers to restaurants and many others. As a result, almost everyone has been forced to ‘DIY or die,’ if only to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

Thankfully, countless tutorials (often free) on just about everything under the sun have cropped up on the internet, so even the most uninitiated can perform tasks once entrusted to the pros. Case in point, CNET notes DIY haircuts and nail care are now not unheard of, which are great ways to keep up appearances and save money in the process. Ditto with budget-friendly dog grooming, (mostly) free online cooking classes, guided at-home workouts (also free), and many more.

When in need, go online.

Finally, don’t lose sight of the fact that while the pandemic is a pain, it’s been made a lot more bearable—even pleasurable—with technology and the internet. There’s just no dearth of entertainment opportunities that you can find online at any given time, ranging from movie streaming services to downloadable books and music—all of which will only set you back a few dollars to subscribe to, rent, or purchase.

And of course, online shopping is proving to be a real godsend. As you spend more time at home, you can still enjoy a steady supply of goods when you shop online from major retailers like Walmart, Costco, and Walgreens. Best of all, you can stretch your dollars by using promo codes and coupons from many retailers.

Indeed, if there’s one thing that the COVID-19 pandemic is teaching us, it’s that we, as humans, really do have a great capacity to endure, and we can still experience joy even during the hardest times. Technology and the many affordable resources available to us at present are only serving to add to that. And with that, there’s no doubt we’ll all get out of this stronger and more resilient than before.
​
Photo via Pexels.com

The inside didn’t match the outside. My childhood home was simple and plain, a yellow-spilt level with a square back yard and faux black shutters. The inside was packed with antiques from Europe, portraits in gilded frames, clocks from all over the world, Oriental rugs, and a museum-piece dollhouse that my great grandmother once owned and now took up a whole wall the living room. No other house in the neighborhood looked like ours inside.

My mother was a tall woman with hazel eyes and high cheekbones; she played up her sing-songy accent, and was everyone’s favorite. I often watched her frantically rubbing her eyebrow as she raced around, trying to fix whatever my father bellowed about in his German accent with his rolling R’s. Although for her it was all a bit of theatre. She liked the role of martyr and harried housewife. She prided herself on being married to “the most difficult man on earth.” She was fiercely competitive; she was a Swiss National Champion figure skater in her youth. 

My mother believed in pretending. Pretend you are strong, pretend you never feel nervous, or anxious, or God forbid, depressed. Act. Pretend you are Jewish in front of Jews, and Christian in front of Christians. There is no harm in playing both sides. The inside doesn’t have to match the outside.

Both of my parents came from Jewish families, and both families fled from Frankfurt before the start of World War II. My mother’s mother and grandmother moved to Switzerland. Their reasons for leaving Germany were multi-layered. It wasn’t only because they were Jewish. There was another factor, something that in 1935 might have been even worse than Judaism. There was mental illness, kept secret for many years.

My father’s family made it out right before Kristallnacht. Until that point, my grandfather had refused to believe that people would ever do horrible things to other humans. He was a doctor, the doctor of Anne Frank’s family. He had sharp blue eyes, a great mind, and a naïve heart.

My father had a happy childhood, or so he insisted, though my mother would whisper to me that the Nazis had beaten him daily. Above all, no one in our family had ever been mentally ill. We were normal. Perfectly so. And we had better behave accordingly. Hiding and deception were a way of life for us.

Like many refugees, my parents refused to speak about their experiences. My mother’s mother, we called her Omama, was the family matriarch. She had emerald green eyes, perfect bone structure, and thick wavy hair that turned snow white in her 60s. She remained in Switzerland and had an enormous amount of influence over all of us. Critical to the point of being mean, she cared deeply about her family, especially her grandchildren. She desperately wanted us to project refinement and culture so that we could be accepted into the highest circles of society. When she had left Germany, she had lost her money, her position, and her status, but she still played the role of aristocrat. Though there were moments when her guard came down and loneliness poked through.

I tried to please my elders. I failed often. My father yelled at me to “pull up my socks.” My Omama told me not to slouch and to tame my wild hair. I felt stretched and pulled by the adults around me, pushed sometimes to the point of breaking, and perhaps I would have broken completely if I hadn’t known, somewhere in my core, that my family had been shaped by things they had no control of, things set in motion before I was born.

I married and had a child. The birth of my daughter triggered severe panic attacks and a depression that had been dormant for many years. My world cracked. The old rules failed me, and I had a breakdown that landed me in a mental hospital. It was the start of a deep introspection and an unburdening, not only for me, but for my mother and grandmother as well. Slowly and cautiously, they relinquished some of the family secrets. The insides were beginning to show.

I began to understand that the extreme attitudes in pre-World War II Germany--fear of the other, of homosexuals, mentally ill, Jews, Gypsies, immigrants—any non-Aryans—had seeped into Germany’s consciousness. My Omama, although Jewish, was swept up in the tide of the times, the belief in sterilization and euthanasia of the incurable. It wasn’t only the Germans who bowed to the science of eugenics; it was the world, though the Nazis were the ones to take these ideas to an obscene conclusion. Back then, my grandmother, a bright, wealthy, independent young woman, had done what she could to protect her sister, Rigmor, who had been diagnosed with mental illness. But my grandmother couldn’t save Rigmor, who became a source of shame, and ultimately a victim of the Nazi regime.

[My second novel], Where Madness Lies, is both my grandmother’s story and mine. It is a story about hope and redemption, about what we pass on, both genetically and culturally. The names have been changed, and some of the details are how I imagined them, not exactly as they might have been. But the bones of the story, the insides, are true.
​