I'm writing this in the middle of the second week of lockdown thanks to the Coronavirus. As of this week, my family and I (and don't I just sound like the queen there?) Are at home, restricted to just walking the dog a couple of times a day. We are more restricted than most because my sons have kidney disease thanks to Alport Syndrome. Their consultant wrote to us, advising a minimum of 12 weeks shielding.
The first few days weren't too bad really. Being at home together gave us a slight sense of being on holiday. There's been no school for the boys for a couple of weeks now, albeit they have online learning to do. GCSEs have been cancelled for this summer, so the set revision feels a bit pointless.
It started to feel strange after week one. We've now had two weekends of not going anywhere and not seeing anybody, which is very much out of the ordinary. We've almost run out of things to say to one another, because none of us have been anywhere. It's surprised me how much of our conversation revolves around our activities outside of the house. James is still working from home, so five days a week he's downstairs in the office. The Xbox and PlayStation are also downstairs, which means the boys can't play on them during the day. This is probably a good thing, given the ongoing parental quest to reduce screen time.
Teenagers tend not to want to hang out with their parents and my boys are no exception. They seem to appear at meal times and then vanish again. They boot me out of the living room every so often so they can watch something they want on the big TV, or I bump into them during one of their many kitchen raids. Communication is usually perfunctory. They haven't seen their friends in person for a few weeks now, but they are enjoying chatting to them online and playing online games in the evening. My eldest lad said to me the other day 'I bet you're glad there wasn't a pandemic in the 80s before you had the internet.' Perish the thought...
I'm not generally the kind of person who feels bored. I can usually find a way to amuse myself and my love of listening to music keeps me going when nothing else will help. This week though, I've felt an oppressive sense of time moving at glacial speed. At times I've felt restless, unmotivated and generally in a slump. I've been bored, but couldn't be bothered finding anything to do. There were a million things I *could* do, if only I could be arsed. I couldn't find it in me to be arsed, though.
When you live with a mental health problem, it doesn't give you time off just because there's a global pandemic. As annoying as it is and as much as I wish it wasn't so, I'm still a mental. So when I can't be bothered to do the garden, or making a meal feels like it's just too much, I never know whether that feeling is down to simple lockdown inertia or whether I'm starting to become depressed. Same with the ever present anxiety that's in the air. Surely it's reasonable to feel anxious at the moment though?
I'm still getting up early, getting dressed and putting on a bit of make up every day. Not because I'm going anywhere, but to give myself a sense of normality. I feel a strange sense that I no longer exist. Almost as though I only exist when I'm out and about and that when I'm hidden away, I'm nothing. It's an odd feeling. Like everyone else, I've no idea what the next few weeks has in store for me. I'm hopeful that we can avoid becoming ill and that we don't lose our minds during lockdown.
Sending you all my best wishes and good luck for the next few weeks. I look forward to catching up with you soon.
