March 13, 2020. It’s not a holiday, nor anyone’s birthday I remember each year. Instead, it was the last day of my life where the calendar date seemed to match the date in my head. Since then, my perception of time has changed — each day is a blur, constantly bleeding into one another. Four years have somehow passed, and I’ve lived through each and every day without ever really realizing what day it was.
The past four years of my life have been a fever dream. My mind can’t comprehend how I went from a 2020 high school graduate to a 2024 soon-to-be college graduate. It seems like only yesterday I was in my second period digital humanities class when the school PA system announced we would have two weeks off for precautionary measures, not knowing how severe the pandemic would be.
The first two weeks were fun; I laid in bed while attending class and slept in. Little did I know, those “two weeks” turned into the rest of the semester spent at home. I spent the rest of my senior year of high school doing Zoom classes online, using FaceTime to replace the daily social interactions I would have with friends, and missing pivotal high school events such as prom and graduation. Amidst all this, I also had to decide where to attend college and consider if the pandemic would hurt my college experience for the foreseeable future.
I spent the last days of high school deciding to attend my local community college, as it was in my best financial interest. Soon after, I graduated high school from my kitchen and was celebrated with a pre-recorded YouTube livestream by my high school’s administrative staff.
My entire freshman year of college was also spent online, as the pandemic’s severity increased by the day. The days constantly kept repeating themselves: wake up, do schoolwork, walk around my neighborhood, ensuring I distanced myself from any neighbors, and go to bed. Nothing exciting happened for an entire year to the point that it didn’t matter what day my calendar displayed; each day felt the exact same.
My sophomore year came around, and normalcy had returned to some extent. I attended college on a hybrid basis and even got my first job. But still, the days continued to repeat themselves: wake up, do schoolwork, attend work, and go to bed. I only knew what day of the week it was based on which days my alarm woke me up at 7 a.m. for my lectures.
I transferred to UC Berkeley as a junior in August 2022, hoping that each day would offer something new, and, for some time, each day did. Yet, that initial excitement and energy I had last year as a newly admitted student only lasted for a semester. Then, the days became monotonous again.
I’m in my last semester as a senior now, and while my days aren’t as repetitive and dull anymore, my understanding of time still hasn’t been restored to what it was pre-pandemic. While my calendar reminds me of what day it is, my mind can’t move past March 13, 2020.
In two months, I’ll be graduating, finally having the opportunity to walk across a stage and celebrate entering a new stage of my life. It’s scary knowing how much time has passed since I was a senior in high school, since it feels like every clock in my world froze four years ago.
While my body has lived through four years, my mind doesn’t feel like it has. I’ve been stuck in an endless loop where the same day seems to reoccur despite actual time passing. Although I can’t undo the past, I’m entering this new era of my life with hope — hope that I’ll finally receive closure for the past four years, hope that each day brings me something exciting, and hope that my perception of time will be restored, as I embark on a new life journey.