All we have is eachother.
It is Wednesday 29th April, 2020, and it is 11:30pm.
I only know the date because I had to check. I don’t know what day it is usually - or in fact what month it is. They are all becoming blurry now. We are currently facing a global crisis - a pandemic. Coronavirus has spread throughout the world, and we are in our 6th week of lockdown in the United Kingdom. I don’t know why I’m telling you, as, if you are reading this - which I thank you for - then you probably know this already.
During this time, it has been extremely difficult. I will get to explain later on, why it has been difficult. Before you all judge me and jump on the ‘people are dying, how are you struggling!’ bandwagon. I understand that. I know people are dying. But, in this time of being housebound; I have come to realise a number of things. That I suppose have left me sad, but also hopeful.
It has taken me my whole life to realise them - 22 years. It has been a painful 22 years. I could very easily sit here, and complain about my life. My hardship. I could do that for sure. And this is the thing - I want to complain about them. But part of me is saying ‘don’t.’ I think this is because there is a pasona of it being selfish to complain about yourself, about your life. Why is that? Even just now - earlier on, when I explained that I have found the lockdown difficult - I immediately had to defend myself. Because I have a worry inside of me that I might wake up in the morning to thousands of abusive messages and a headline on the news about how a selfish 22 year old from Surrey was struggling with the lockdown, when in fact, people were dying. Nurses were risking their lives and so on. And I almost have it imbedded in my mind now that you cannot tell people you are struggling, that you are sad. Especially when there is chaos going on around them.
And I suppose it has really got me thinking about it. About everything. About the fact that, it is now normal to suffer in silence. That it doesn’t really matter how you are feeling. You just have to feel it and be quiet about it. Obviously - there are those that love you whom you can always speak to - but again... even then, I feel selfish going to them with my ‘issues’ or my ‘feelings’ or whatever. And actually, sometimes I think it is best that they stay inside my head because they are safe there and if people knew what I actually thought about, well, I don’t really know if I’m honest.
My reasons for finding this lockdown a struggle is because it can become lonely. It can get you thinking about things that you thought were buried. It will have you awake until 3am crying into your pillow for no reason at all. Every feeling coming back that you thought you had put away into a cast iron box to never see again. I suppose we are so used to the busy rush and buzz of life that when we think we’ve gotten over something, we haven’t really. It’s still there, deep down. And I often find that usually when I’m alone I feel my worst - because I actually have to process my feelings. The only way to describe it is, imagine that everyday is noisy and interactive, and often you don’t even have time to think about what you’re having for lunch. And then suddenly, that all stops. You’re stuck in one room and forced to listen to the silence. I suppose really that is what’s going on in my head - and it causes things to resurface. Scary things. At the end of the day, it is called isolation. We are instructed not to see loved ones. I haven’t seen my mother in 6 weeks. There are no coffee shops open, you can’t go and lay in the park with the sun on your face. And really it’s got me wondering, how are people coping with this? I’m sure they’re not. And it’s scary. And it’s painful.
Partly, I think in some ways, this could be a great thing. In Venice the water is clear again. Animals are probably thrilled about there being less pollution and humans ruining their territory. But really, this is going to be extremely difficult on so many people. I consider myself to be fairly positive most of the time, and having had depression and remembering what it is like, my heart physically hurts for those who are suffering from mental health and are forced to stay inside and stay away from their loved ones. It’s crippling and sometimes I can’t breathe when I think about it. And so, I’ve seen many posts, of people saying they can’t wait for lockdown to end. And they’re getting so much backlash - but why? Why? It is not selfish to be sad. It is not selfish to be hurting or struggling. They are reaching out because they are struggling. Why is it okay to tell them they can’t because people are dying? We are aware of that, and that is part of the problem. This whole situation is hard on everybody. Sure, some more than others but - leading onto my next point - it doesn’t matter.
Really, it doesn’t matter who is going through a harder time. It doesn’t. Because at the end of the day that person is allowed to feel heartache because they lost their dog, they might have a big house and lots of money and a swimming pool but they are still heartbroken. And they are allowed to be. Who are we to tell people they can’t feel something because others are facing harder times? This is just going to cause a whirlwind of issues. Of suicides. Of mental health issues that could have been dealt with had they spoken to somebody about the way they feel, but without realising it, people are encouraging them not to.
It has been a difficult year so far for the UK - for many reasons. We lost a treasured TV presenter, Caroline Flack a few months back, just before the virus worsended. She committed suicide. And I suppose it shook the nation - because it was never expected. She was a ray of sunshine, happy, and beautiful. But she was tormented and told that she wasn’t good enough, and I’m sure she was told that she was being selfish when she said she was struggling. Or that she was a burden when she told somebody that she felt depressed.
I suppose this is slightly off topic comaparef to what I actually wanted to write about. I was going to write about love, and solemates. And about how we lose people but they will come back if they are meant to. But actually I think that would have been rather selfish.
As I leave you thinking about how you might listen to somebody now instead of telling them that ‘it could be worse’, I just wanted to finish by saying that it is okay to feel this way. It is human nature. We will cry and we will break but we will mend again and we will carry on - but we must carry each other, and pick each other up, and we must make sure to listen to those who need us most - even if you think they don’t.
