There’s no easy way to express in vulnerability, when we do we surrender and find our hope.

I have no idea how to start this, but I’ve been compelled by the support and advocates of #longhaulers - I felt seen and heard with @laurenthemedium @alyssamilano @wearebodypolitic @makegoodtogether — I’m sharing this because I want people to know they’re not alone... we’ve experienced so much grief and there’s those living feeling as if they have no idea how to be. 

This has been another life altering experience for me... seven months of continued struggle. I’m 28, there’s so much spirit in this world... I know my purpose. I’m going to keep fighting. I stand in solidarity with @wearebodypolitic and hundred of thousands of Covid patients from across the world. Let’s all be an ally for everyone affected by this global pandemic.

In March, as every New Yorker, had no idea what was coming... my birthday was March 2nd... we all just felt this was another hoax and we would continue to celebrate, go on about our lives, and just continue our hustle. 

I’m a curator, poet, busy commuter who had a lot of work + social gatherings to support and host. I didn’t take the precaution until we hit major shut down... I also have an autoimmune disease called PCOS polycystic ovary syndrome... there’s 100 different scenarios that could’ve let me to this disease. March 25th...unfortunately I was here for a moment and then I wasn’t for another. This story is long, but what I can tell you I was scared... I was coughing a lot for a moment and then the next was told to go to urgent care just in case... I ended up going not really coherent... my phone disabled because I wasn’t cognitive to even unlock my phone... worrying my pregnant sister... even through miles away... she was there for me. I have barely any memory of these traumatic events, but I’m still feeling every part of it and hold on to what I could remember. They told me I had pneumonia in my lungs and Covid-19. I wasn’t coherent and they gave me steroids and took me to the ER at Northwell Hospital in Forest Hills... 

The basement was a madhouse... they asked me so many questions and I really couldn’t talk... oxygen.. breathe.. just breathe.. pray.. you’re going to be okay. I’m not going to die. I won’t die. I need to talk to my sister, my loved ones, they haven’t heard from me.. they have no idea what’s happening... what if I didn’t tell them I love them.. what if I don’t make it... Shock. Flat line... I’m back. I’m here okay.. nurses come and told me I’m a survivor... septic shock... breathe.. just breathe. So many yells, sobbing, crying... can’t sleep. I’m cold. This woman next to me reminds me of Tumai (my grandmother) she’s staring at me... what am I going to do... I want to say something to her... I’ll pray for her... my sister.. I hope she’s okay.. the baby. What is happening... why can’t I talk. Thinking of him, of them, of everyone... I really need to make it... I’ve survived so much... this can’t be it. Nurses take my blood a lot and tell me I’m doing good... I just nod, I told them I couldn’t really see... I was confused. I wanted my phone to work. 

I’m not going to go further on my 3 day experience at the hospital... it was uncomfortable and when I left.. chaos didn’t end, not only did I feel like soul wasn’t in my body... I had no where to go. I wasn’t able to go “home” — that’s a story for another time. Between my family members and friends trying to figure out where to put me.. everyone was so quick. I was so slow. Trying to walk. Trying not to fall. I can get in to this Uber. Breathing heavy. Hotel. Kim. Oh my god Kim. Trying not to cry. A face. Finally a face. I know. Thank you. Cherishe my dear sister. My aunt Priscilla. All in different states, everyone coming together trying to help. The shower. It was so hard. Food... wasn’t sitting right. 

Couldn’t smell, couldn’t taste...

Everything hurt. 

Steroid, asthma pump, Tylenol, and cough syrup. 

Slowly but surely.. Liz, Lori, Jenny D. Jenny V., Azem, Elmer, Jay, Jennifer, Jaecee, Cyn, Roy, Nia, Shaquana, Jessica, my sisters NYC friends (plus many more) all trying to figure out how to help... I wasn’t coherent.

Kim came back.. every time I saw her it was a light. She helped me to the Airbnb... I couldn’t do this but I was trying.. I couldn’t move. All I wanted to do was cry and sleep. I thank god everyday for Kim. For my sister. For everyone. 

We got to the Airbnb and I just slept. I remember Jenny V and Azem came to give me clothes... 

The hardest part was when I was there alone. I did hard things and many things on my own... I just couldn’t do this. I think I had begged Kim to come back, but I knew she couldn’t… she tried to make me laugh a couple of times, I didn’t want her to get Covid (she was safe) She helped me get a phone. I started talking to everyone again... very little. I deleted my post about Covid. I just wanted it all to go away. I couldn’t see. I needed to figure out how I was going to get back to my apartment and that was really stressful. Finances and everything were a lot to bare. Trying to figure out what to do. 

I couldn’t see.

Blood vessels popped in my eyes... 

These feelings when you’re alone. 

I finally didn’t get anywhere till the middle of April. I thank god for Liz everyday. She took me in and has been a guiding light since then... you’d think damn she survived this and she’s doing better and stronger... 

Stronger maybe... but the recovery process is still happening 7 months later. Being called a Long Hauler, it’s to say my experience has been gaslighted and just all this blood taken out and not enough answers. Everything in my body spiked after having Covid, Diabetes, PCOS, hair loss, loss of eyesight, digestive, gastrointestinal, cardiovascular, dermatological, neurological and so much more. SEVEN months of masking my feelings, chaotic recovery, having to move in this chaos, feeling lost, having to really dig deep to heal, the ptsd, the traumas... this isn’t just my trauma on top of more trauma this is expressing to those who have a similar story and haven’t felt seen or heard. 

All my life, I’ve been surviving... this time the purpose has come with ascension... spiritual awakening... I’ve been struggling harshly and thankfully I’m in therapy.. I have a lot of amazing support systems, a collective, a community, and there’s so much support in so many ways. I’ve backed away from so much because through this I’ve hustled hardcore and my vessel needs to be cared for. I’ve learned so much about myself and even people... this experience made me realize so much, but the answers I need for my health are still idle... I’m still looking for answers and doing my own research and figuring out how to eat, how to maintain my mental health, how to just be. 

This is will be continuing for some time and calling myself a #longhauler doesn’t feel nothing but heavy, it’s a constant reminder that I almost died and I have symptoms still and nothing is being helped... all I will say.. is keep fighting, keep trying to find answers… and don’t let this rule over you. We’re more than this. I’m 28, there’s so much spirit in this world... I know my purpose. I’m going to keep fighting. I stand in solidarity with @wearebodypolitic @makegoodtogether and hundred of thousands of Covid patients from across the world. Let’s all be in an ally for everyone affected by this global pandemic. I’m here for you all. 

As always, thank you for being on my journey with me... 

Shanice Ariel is a 28 year old from Queens, NYC. When it comes to her writing journey, she is a woman of all trades. In her writing she dives deep into themes of self love, abuse in many forms, and healing in her poetry. She believes firmly that all unheard voices matters and has created a safe space of community birthing Open Mic Renegades an umbrella of open mics around the New York City area. Her journey hasn’t been an easy one, but she dives in to perseverance, and the journey isn’t over, it’s just beginning.

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