Day 96

I have been in lockdown for almost 100 days.

It seems like a lifetime ago that I was sat on the edge of the sofa watching the news, wondering what was going to happen next and awaiting the instruction to:

Stay At Home

Staying at home now feels like the most natural thing to do.

Going out is more alien, at least in the social sense.

Keeping myself and my loved ones safe has been so ingrained – even during this relatively short period of time – that hugging friends or meeting for dinner in a restaurant seems a bizarre concept. I have nodded my head and said hello to people as I go for my walks, I have even petted a few dogs, but I have felt safe in the knowledge that I was able to return to the safety of my home, to wash my hands and even my clothes.

At one point I wondered if my anxiety would stop me from doing what was once considered normal. Am I becoming a tad agoraphobic? Germ phobic? If I stop and think about it logically, I realise I have actually made huge steps in overcoming my fears and that as long as I have a modicum of control over the situation, I can do this.

I’m not saying it will be easy, but I think I can handle this new world we are living in.

I have faith that safety restrictions will be in place for some time (although there will still be those who flout the rules or find a convenient loophole) and, for example, social distancing will be adhered to in most supermarkets. I will take my time and be responsible for my own safety – I can protect myself by not putting myself in certain situations – I can even choose to keep a two metre distance when others are moving towards the new 1 metre rule.

However, I’m not sure I am ready to utilise public toilets just yet….

*****

I have always been a fan of the NHS, and proudly work for them, but the pandemic has shown this country just how hard our staff work and how much has been sacrificed. Some people haven’t been home for months because they are too frightened to take the virus back to their families, but they are bravely going into hospitals every day to try to save lives and comfort the ill. I am in awe of my friends who work in the health service, two of whom contracted the virus and were extremely poorly, but thankfully made it through.

I can’t even imagine the losses that people have suffered and am incredibly grateful that I can still pick up the phone and speak to my parents, my siblings and nieces; that my friends are messaging every day and despite all our worries, we pull together and go through this one day at a time; that I can watch my step-daughter fly a kite, with a huge smile upon her face.

It’s almost surreal.

What will we make of all this in a year – ten years – fifty? What effect might social distancing have on our children’s mental health and future relationships? What new words will fill our dictionaries or have new meanings….who had ever heard of a “social bubble” pre-2020?

There are so many unknowns.

But there are also the things that keep us ticking along.

This afternoon I splashed in the sea with Charlotte. We laughed, covered in salty water, shielding our faces from the spray. Our shoes lost a fight with the tide and we crouched down in soggy sandles to investigate a washed-up jellyfish. We found a cuttlefish and wiggled our toes in the soft sand and enjoyed just “being”.

At one point I stood in the shallows, looking out to the mist above the sea, the sun turning my shoulders pink, and I cried.

I was suddenly tired and overwhelmed by the events of the past few months and somehow the beauty of the beach and my pure happiness in that moment triggered something inside me.

I didn’t let my step-daughter see me, but if she had asked me, I would have told her the truth:                    The world is such a beautiful place and there is still so much hope. Dogs are barking for their grubby tennis balls to be, and kids are still tugging at their parents t-shirts and demanding ice creams. Life goes on around us, but it will be forever changed.