A Simple Trip to the Beach

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I don’t think I had ever been prone to depression before the pandemic. I am generally upbeat, happy, and have a positive outlook most if not all of the time, but a deep, unshakable melancholy set in weeks after the state of California issued the stay-at-home order. Confined to my home, leaving only to buy groceries and other necessities, the only way I could keep in touch with friends and family was through social media. Through that medium, I received news of the deaths of friends or their loved ones, more deaths than I can count on my fingers. A facetime call from my mother let me know of the death of an elderly uncle, and then an aunt a few weeks later. My only window to the outside world was Facebook. If I wasn’t addicted to it before, I definitely was throughout the pandemic. With covid denial and conspiracies rampant on that, the outlook for a speedy end to the crisis seemed bleak. A deep depression overtook me. It manifested itself in a lack of interest in doing anything other than scrolling and sleeping. I felt like I gave up. The healthy habits I had developed as an adult didn’t seem important. The stagnant lifestyle I fell into coupled with the unhealthy eating habits I developed took its toll on me. I gained a massive amount of weight, approximately fifty pounds, my cholesterol levels and blood pressure shot up, and I was pre-diabetic by the time the shelter-in-place orders were lifted. The entire experience was surreal, but it was nearly over. All I wanted to do was to spend time with my parents and siblings and go anywhere.
My mother loves the ocean, so naturally, weeks or months after the stay-at-home orders were lifted, our first trip was to the beach. We drove a few hours from our home in Bakersfield to Santa Monica State Beach, both in California. Things were not quite back to normal entirely, but it was nice seeing people living life. I am sure there were a lot of smiles hidden underneath the masks as we walked along the pier, and the smiles, the joy, and the laughter were all quite visible on the beach where masks were either not required, or the mandate to wear them was not enforced. In either case, it felt like I was finally awakening from a long and somber dream.
As good as it felt to be out and about and among other people, with some restrictions still in place, I remember wondering if things would ever truly go back to normal. The crowds on the pier and on the beach were noticeably thinner than they were prior to the pandemic, and most people were hidden behind masks per the mandate, and restaurants only allowed take out or outdoor dining. Would this be the new norm? Another thing that really stood out to me from this trip, particularly as we stopped by the Glendale Galleria Mall on the way home, was how much more rigidly enforced the mask mandate was in the L.A. metropolitan area compared to my much more conservative hometown where it was loosely enforced if at all. The disapproving looks I got in the L.A. area for pulling my mask below my chin were the same looks I got in Bakersfield for wearing a mask at all. I found it funny and interesting how a hundred and fifty miles and a mountain range divided more than just the geographical landscape, but the cultural landscape as well.
That trip seemed like an eternity ago. The entire pandemic was like a fleeting nightmare, like a childhood trauma that our minds seek to suppress, the memories of it fade but the scars remain, and I, for one, enjoy and appreciate life a little bit more than I did prior to the crisis. My health, both mental and physical, has improved markedly.

March 29, 2021

self

Daniel Garza

HST643

Arizona State University

Text Story

English Travel

English Home & Family Life

beach

Santa Monica

California

Los Angeles

self esteem

perception

mask

depression

Arizona State University

HST643

Spring A Session 2025

Mental Health

01/29/2025

02/25/2025

03/31/2025