I posted about this "jokingly" on my Twitter but today my first patron *and* my last patron commented on my mask.
The first did this thing I've absolutely come to fucking hate – "oh... I should be masking 😔". Maybe if I had stopped for a second I would have offered the patron a mask, but I get so overwhelmed when people do this. It's like they want absolution for their guilt and I'm not giving that to them.
They see the social consequences (someone even *admitted* to my face) and then essentially "compliment" me, as if I'm not struggling intensely. As if I don't spend the majority of my time alone and in isolation. As if I'm not alienated from nearly everyone I'm surrounded by.
This shit is so humiliating to me – and it doesn't make me feel seen at all. It's utterly depressing.
And then the fucking last patron asked me why I was wearing a mask because COVID is over. This is some shit where I just had to shut down or I would lose my job.
Why am I wearing a mask? Because my dad fucking died and he didn't even have COVID. The medical industry was just SO FUCKED that I had to witness him fucking wither away and die in front of my eyes over 6 months. This is what disabled and immunocompromised people have been trying to tell y'all. If you die because medical help isn't available you *still fucking die in real life*. It doesn't matter if it's from COVID or a car crash or cancer. You still. Fucking. Die. And that's the headspace that last patron put me in. One of just rage.
Why say anything at all? What joy do you get from this? Why can't you mind your goddamn business? So I guess I started the shift depressed and ended it enraged. How great.
