Our Skills for Care graduate, Alexa Kerr-Dineen reflects on the wide ranging and fluctuating emotional journey she’s gone on since the pandemic started. And we’re pretty sure she’s not alone…
I’m sure we’re all sick of hearing the historical enigma that we’re living through being described as an ‘unprecedented’ , ‘uncertain’, or ‘challenging’ time. This shiny new virus has come swooping in and turned our lives upside down within weeks. The repercussions are complex on so many levels and throw up all kinds of emotions in any number of confusing and exhausting combinations.
I have been working from home for nearly 4 weeks now, and the various announcements from the government, the bleak and scary news reports and the uncertainty of when I’ll see anyone other than my parents again have taken their toll. In an attempt to reassure anyone feeling emotionally conflicted and/or exhausted, I have tried to summarise just some of the things that I have experienced or observed since COVID-19 made it clear that it’s not here to play nicely.
Grief: Grief is a complex umbrella emotion which encompasses (to name a few) shock, anger, sadness, indifference, helplessness and denial. It is one of life’s necessary evils; we will all experience grief at some point. Getting to grips with an affronting, impalpable change in the future or the loss of something that we once took for granted is hard. It’s ok to feel grief in times like this. It’s ok to grieve those who will spend their last moments alone in a scary, clinical environment – I found myself weeping over the death of a nurse who I have never, and will never, meet. Grieving for the 2020 that we had envisaged for ourselves. Grieving for time lost with loved ones, missed first giggles from nieces and nephews whose precious and limited baby days are passing by without you there. Feeling guilty that we’re safe at home while others are out there risking their lives for our safety. Those brave, brave carers and key workers who are distancing themselves from their families and support systems to look after other people’s. Grieving for our (temporarily) lost freedom. Grief is a multifaceted emotion with a sting like none other.
Annoyance: Unpredicted plan changes, no matter the circumstances, are annoying. The Olympics and Wimbledon have been cancelled for the first time since World War 2. Holidays, parties, concerts, sporting events, weddings (including my own brother’s) are being postponed and cancelled. It makes us realise the crucial role that these things play in the national morale and how we all love having something to look forward to. However, selfishly I am somewhat pleased that for now, I won’t have to twiddle my thumbs for 90 minutes while all the male members of my family are engrossed in penalties and hysterical offside claims! However, it goes without saying that these measures are an infinitely small price to pay for our continued safety and wellbeing. There will come a day where we can eagerly await the result of the tie-break in the Wimbledon final while sipping Pimm’s. And that will be a glorious day.
Anxiety: It’s a cliche for a reason – these are indeed uncertain times. As humans, we thrive in predictability and routine, both of which coronavirus has come along and gleefully thrown out the window. Now, we are faced with a situation where our routine is loosely based around Joe Wicks, our home and our office are the same thing and we don’t even know what day it is, while the world goes through something that on an individual level, we have very little control over. Normality has taken on a new form and it’s bound to be an anxious time while we adjust to the new normal. On top of that, many of us have key worker loved ones to worry about, high risk family members or friends to fret over, children to homeschool while working from home ourselves, a business to keep afloat or a family to feed in times of financial unpredictability. All of that while getting enough sleep, keeping active and adhering to the absurd social pressure that you should emerge from lockdown as a professional knitter, fluent in 2 additional languages with a banana bread recipe to rival Mary Berry’s. This is not possible. If there was any time to take care of ourselves, and each other, it’s now.
Confusion: What day is it? Which news channel should I believe? Should I binge watch Grey’s Anatomy of Game of Thrones next? Will I ever go to a pub again? What on EARTH does furlough mean? We are faced with a new onslaught of information every day and it seems that the goalposts of future normality are moved almost hourly. Suddenly everyone is an expert on when the ‘peak’ will hit and when we’ll be allowed to hug our grandparents again, which means knowing where to turn and what to believe is confusing.
Boredom: This is a funny one. It almost makes no sense that in light of all that’s going on and the fact that life has been condensed into the four walls of our homes, that we’d have the opportunity to be bored. That said, falling into the monotony of changing from night-time pyjamas to daytime pyjamas, considering your ‘commute’ to be moving from the kitchen to the living room and dealing with Pret (or in my case, Greggs) withdrawals is distinctly unstimulating and dull. I have counted the bathroom tiles countless times (there are 51), and watched more episodes of ‘The Chase’ than I care to disclose. However, hard as it may be to recognise, and though there is no shame in boredom, others are working their socks off in terrifying circumstances so that we can be bored. It is a privilege, and it is absolutely not an excuse to ignore the government’s plea to stay at home.
Ok, that’s enough of the negatives. We have enough of those on our telly screens and news feeds every day. Though there is a fine line between optimism and ignorance, it is important nonetheless to remind ourselves of the positives that have emerged from this undeniably difficult situation. Even in the darkest of times, there’s always a chance to look for a silver lining, and even in the throes of a global pandemic, there are several.
Kindness: Neighbours checking in on elderly neighbours, friends sending care packages to friends just because, the entire nation applauding on their doorsteps to thank the unsung heroes who are risking everything to care for us. Supermarkets setting time aside for elderly and key-worker customers, businesses donating proceeds to charity, people giving blood for the first time, or the hundredth time, people donating to food banks and almost a million of us volunteering our services to the NHS to help in any way we can. Times like this truly highlight the integrity of the human spirit and the kindness that lies at the heart of so many millions of us, even in the hardest of times.
Gratitude: Having the big things taken away from you makes you appreciate the little things. The first warm sunshine of the year, longer evenings, a good film or a heartening phone call with a loved one. An unexpected abundance of time to finally paint that wall, binge watch that box set, spend time with your loved ones or learn something new. Gratitude has the power to turn any negative on its head. “I don’t know when I’ll see my sister again” = “I will never take time spent with her for granted again”. “They only let me buy 3 of each thing at Tesco” = “aren’t I lucky to have a fridge to fill, and the disposable income to buy everything I need?”. However, the overwhelming gratitude which I hope I share with every single person in the nation, is the gratitude we feel towards the thousands of people who are working tirelessly to protect us. From doctors, nurses and paramedics, to staff in banks and supermarkets, train drivers and bin men. It is their unrelenting selflessness and dedication that will, with our cooperation, see us through to the other side of this. We are nothing without the health professionals of every discipline who sacrifice their time and energy to take care of us. I hope our gratitude for them never ceases.
Hope: No one enjoys the daunting and seemingly hopeless news reports informing us of more and more deaths and despair, with no visible end to the dystopian nightmare we find ourselves in. However, we keep going. We hold onto the glimmer of hope which makes us get out of bed in the morning and try again, no matter how broken yesterday left us. While we spend some time indoors, the Earth is having a well deserved rest. European CO2 emissions could fall by up to 24% this year. Swans have returned to the canals of Venice and the water is getting clearer by the day. The ozone layer appears to be repairing itself. Personally I’ve seen the stars more clearly than ever before. There are days where it takes everything to get out of bed, or muster a smile. But hope is there, lurking in the shadows of our darkest days to remind us that this too shall pass, and there are better days on the horizon.
Love: The way to beat this pandemic is to physically distance ourselves from others, meaning our usual displays of love have been temporarily suspended from our repertoire. Hugs, kisses, a reassuring squeeze of the hand or a stroke of the hair when words simply aren’t enough are all put on hold until it’s safe. Instead, it’s waving at grandparents through kitchen windows, calling a friend to share a much-needed laugh, Facetime dinner parties, the lost art of letter writing. The team at Care City got involved, sending off a much loved colleague through virtual leaving drinks over Zoom, which left everybody bar none in better spirits than before. Love transcends the 2 metres that we must distance ourselves by, it outlasts the currently unknown period of time that we might be apart from our loved ones, and when all is said and done, it’s there to pick us up when it feels like all hope is lost. I hope when we are allowed to break the invisible safety barrier, we will never again take for granted a hug from a loved one, a handshake with a colleague or a high five with a 6 year old nephew who is ‘too cool’ for a cuddle. I know I won’t.
If you ask me, there is no such thing as an invalid feeling. All too often, an excess of emotion is dismissed as a side effect of tiredness, stress, hunger. As if a quick nap, a snack or a spot of workplace delegation is the quick-fix we need to extinguish this frightful display of feelings. Granted, no one ever felt worse after eating a chocolate bar and it may have solved the problem, but does not invalidate the feelings attached to the problem. Emotions are there to be felt, embraced, and respected, not brushed under the carpet. In the words of a much loved children’s book, ‘you can’t go over it, you can’t go under it, you have to go through it’. And I for one am so excited to see what’s waiting on the other side.
