I’ve tried to sit and write this twice throughout the lockdown – once about 12 days in and again after about 30 days. One thing or another caused me to step away from the keyboard and the motivation to write quickly dissipated. In an effort to avoid a similar outcome this time I’ve decided that I won’t be editing this piece once it’s finished. If it comes across scattered or lacking in artistry, I apologize, but consider it a reflection of my mind right now. If I spend too much time thinking about all that I’ll never put this out there.

I also want to start this off by mentioning that I am writing about my experiences and the experiences of my family. Undoubtedly much of the news coming out of Shanghai these days is shocking and tragic. Many of the things you might’ve seen are true, and circumstances in some places may be worse even than that. I have been very fortunate, in some respects, to have been working throughout this lockdown. Except for briefly at the onset, we haven’t had to worry (much) about food. I haven’t had to worry about rent, bills, or whether my employer would stop paying me.

That isn’t to say there hasn’t been stress – conditions in the quarantine centers range from very bad to abysmal, depending on where you end up, and avoiding them is nearly impossible if you or someone nearby tests positive for the virus. This reality weighs over everyone in the city, each time we are called down to line up for Covid tests. What happens to my son if I test positive? What happens to my cat? My things? I’m healthy, by and large – I’m not afraid of catching Covid – I am afraid, though, of getting stuck in a fangcang for an unknown amount of time, separated from my family, without access to proper care or an English-speaking doctor.

I have been interrupted too many times writing this and have lost the flow. This is the way of life but also speaks uniquely to the inertia of Lockdown. At this point it requires great effort to force myself to take any action – and each action is met with tremendous resistance. Why write? Why teach, why mark, why read, why exercise, why why why? Yesterday is today is tomorrow: a blur. My wife doesn’t know what day it is. An earlier draft of this piece focused on my attempts to stay sane through it all – I have long since given up the pursuit. I spend much of each day asking myself if it’s early enough to start drinking. Only the presence of my family reminds me the answer to that question is usually no. Each day is spent waiting for night, but night doesn’t bring reprieve – it only continues the cycle. This lockdown was 48 hours, 96 hours, five days, ten days, fifty days. Is there an end to it? May is likely out of question, but what about June? What about the next time cases start popping back up in Shanghai? Do we do all this again?  

There is joy, though. I get to spend more time at home with my son than I ever could have done in normal times. It’s been incredible to see him grow day after day. Incredible to see him develop new bits of his personality. Incredible to watch him figure out his body. He’s nearly rolling over now. He can’t quite make it – about two-thirds of the way there – but he’ll get it. Just incredible. He kicks my ass day after day (I’ve been thrown up on twice just today) but it still feels like such a privilege to hold him.

 There are also little things I took for granted before. I was excited to get soap, sponges and potato chips about a week ago.  After four weeks inside my apartment, I was thrilled to walk around the garden below my building. The first steps outside were tentative, as though I hadn’t walked the same path thousands of times before. Going downstairs these days feels like when I was young, sneaking cookies out of the package after I was supposed to be in bed. I’m cautious where I was confident, even arrogant, before. Am I really supposed to be outside? I don’t know when it will feel normal again.

Shanghai’s online community has been a big source of comfort and positivity throughout this, even when people are complaining about the circumstances. Even though I already know, it is helpful to see other people going through the same things. My house is crowded, but this Lockdown has been a profoundly lonely experience. To see and hear others trying to navigate this mess of policy gives me hope. With that it is easy enough to drown out or ignore all the weirdos brought out of the woodwork by Lockdown, with their “why haven’t you revolted?” or “could there be something more sinister afoot?” questions. We’re all looking forward to the day that we get out from this.

But what will the city be like after this? I’ve seen friends for the last time without knowing it. I’ve seen colleagues and students for the last time – many of whom are gone already. Thinking about that makes me very sad. For those of us who will be here After it will be hard for things to be the same. Shadows of people we knew will linger around the city, mingled with remnants of the Lockdown. Fences and barriers in the streets, outside communities, at the mouths of alleyways. It feels like something irrevocable is occurring here, but I think it’s more likely that we will force this behind us. Things will be back to normal sooner than they ought. That may be worse.

At 50 days of Lockdown, I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’m sure there isn’t much of an audience for my rambling. Despite feeling very low much of the time, I know I have so much to be thankful for. I have my family, I have my work, I have relative comfort. There are so, so many in the city worse off. I’m trying to stay positive, as much as possible. I can’t wait to see the other side of this. To be back at 8 Pints on Yanping Lu crushing Old Drivers. To be cycling by the river. To be back at school. I’m hopeful that we’ll get there soon.

Conor