Read the rest of my Corona Lockdown diaries here.
I couldn’t let this day pass without commemorating it somehow. Lockdown started a year ago today.
Happy lockdowniversary!
365 days. A whole year! It feels like ten.
OK we haven’t been in full lockdown the whole time, but aside from the summer when we got a little taste of freedom it’s been pretty much a year without seeing friends, without hugs, without pubs, restaurants, shops, schools and leisure activities… and I for one think that it has really taught us the important things in life.
Namely seeing friends, hugs, pubs, restaurants, shops, school and leisure activities.
FML. What a year.
At this point, everyone knows of someone who has been taken before their time by this bastard virus, or who has had a significant hospital stay. Many of us have experienced coronavirus ourselves and have concluded it isn’t fun at all.
Tonight, we are encouraged to light a candle to remember the 126,000 people in the UK that have died from COVID.
I admit I won’t be taking part. Much like doorstep clapping, I’m not sure what it actually achieves and I’ll be out walking the dog then anyway; highlight of my day, that.
More importantly, I can’t think about the people that have died without thinking about how unnecessary many of these deaths were, without thinking about the incompetence of our government; their refusal to lock down in the first place, placing elderly COVID patients back into care homes, the billions they have wasted awarding contracts for useless PPE and useless track and trace apps to their mates, the lockdown rules they’ve made and then broken themselves, illustrating that it’s one rule for them and one for us plebs and disillusioning the whole country.
It didn’t have to be this way.
It makes me angry rather than thoughtful and reflective, and that will always be my overwhelming memory of this year. Anger and frustration.
I’ve never been a Tory (I think you might have been able to work that out) but this year I have felt absolutely sickened and disgusted by them and the people that continue to support them (‘He’s doing his best’ is something you say when your 5 year old is shit at football, not when your prime minister is a bumbling incompetent. Don’t even get me started on ‘It’d be worse under Corbyn’…). This is the year that I can no longer ignore my political differences. I have no time or energy left for debate; if you support this government, we cannot be friends.
It has also opened my eyes to how bloody selfish people can be.
From hoarding loo roll and pasta and then trying to profit from it, to refusing to wear a little bit of flimsy material over their faces (I bring to you this wonderful poetry; Keith here fully admitting in his local paper that what comes out of his mouth is shit).
I’ve seen people on social media boasting of breaking lockdown rules so they can have a family party, dozens of people refusing to distance at supermarkets… and don’t get me started on antivaxxers passing on misinformation (ie total bollocks) about vaccine safety.
It appears that the phrase ‘avoid it like the plague’ needs to be retired as it seems many people actively seek it out and would probably lick it if they could. Twats.
I’m also sick of toxic positivity.
The mindset that others have it worse, so we can’t complain. We must be grateful for what we have, rather than mourn for what we have lost. We should be making the most of slow living, rather than being desperate to leave it behind and get back to normal.
To an extent, finding the positives is a good exercise, but relentless toxic positivity dismisses our natural human emotions. After all, if you can’t be sad because someone has it worse, it makes sense that you can’t be happy because someone has it better.
It makes people who are feeling shit feel even more shit. Quit it.
And it has been shit. For the first time in my life, I’ve turned to antidepressants and therapy to help cope. I’m not ashamed. I have realised how important my friendships are; without regularly spending time with friends who make me laugh and the mutual support we provide each other, I have found lockdown very hard to deal with.
I haven’t enjoyed being at home all the time, and homeschooling has been an utter shitshow, but that’s OK. I have concluded that I don’t have to want to spend every waking moment with my children, it isn’t something that I should feel guilty about and it doesn’t mean I don’t love them. This isn’t a normal situation and there isn’t a standard reaction. It doesn’t make me a bad parent to want some space occasionally and to be honest they are old enough to want space too.
If I’ve learned anything from the last year it’s that prioritising my own mental health doesn’t make me weak, friends are very important, and being able to admit that my kids drive me crazy occasionally and that, often, I can’t wait for them to go to bed is entirely normal.
And that schools are a bloody godsend and teachers are miracle workers and please please please oh god PLEASE don’t close them again.
Now they’re back, the house is quiet between 9 and 3pm, people that need it are being vaccinated, and spring is in the air, I can’t help feeling hopeful for change. And, it’s only a few weeks til I can go to the pub again. Pretty please, don’t fuck it up.
Thanks for sharing your experience of lockdown with us all. It’s been so comforting and validating to have someone else say all the things we have all felt over lockdown. . It’s been such a frustrating and hard year.