The Rollercoaster that is COVID-19
Last Wednesday, I felt remarkably upbeat. I was getting creative, and felt like I was coping with the changes we were seeing in society because of Covid-19.
However, things don't feel so rosy any more.
Every day since then has brought new restrictions, new closures, new ways of 'being'. The Squidge family has done their best, but it hasn't been easy... Personally, I've found myself very much more up-and-down. I have experienced an overwhelming mixture of emotions, often in just one day. Here are a few of the strongest.
Fear. Mainly of the unknown - when will we fall ill? How bad will it be? When will UK life be locked down? Will the NHS cope?
Sadness. We have had to deal with the limitations which need to be enforced at church - there's no public worship, and we've seen weddings cancelled and funerals limited.
Gratitude. There are lots of folk doing Good Things for friends and neighbours, or trying to give people access to activities online, or helping to calm and reassure those who are finding things difficult.
Worry. Almost constant, for family and friends who are vulnerable due to age or underlying health issues, or for those close to us who have been classed as key workers and continue to put themselves at risk of infection.
Anger. Directed against people who ignore the restrictions and guidelines which have been put in place to try to protect those who are most vulnerable and who are going to be working hard to protect us.
Disbelief. Life will probably never be the same again. We will always live with B.C and A.C - before Covid-19 and after Covid-19.
Joy. Seeing rainbows in windows, sharing comedy videos with the Squidgelings, taking a (safely distanced from others) walk and seeing signs of spring in my own and other people's gardens.
Panic. Needing to go out for some basic supplies like bread or cereal, and seeing empty shelves or no way of keeping a safe distance from other customers in a crowded store.
One minute I feel calm and content, editing Tilda 3 or colouring in my devotional book or reading or knitting. The next, it all comes crashing in again - the reality of what we are faced with - and I find I can't stop the tears from falling.
So yeah, it doesn't feel like a good place to be at the moment. But as one friend told me, when I posted I was on the verge of a panic attack after a trip to the local Aldi, talking about it all helps and there ARE things I can do to protect my mental health.
For anyone else who's struggling like me at the moment...you are not alone. Isolated, yes, but not alone. Do whatever you need to, to find the light in these dark times. In fact, I shall be lighting a candle in my window at 7pm tonight, to remind myself of the ultimate Light, Jesus.
Look for the light, and call out the darkness so it doesn't get a grip - on you, on your emotions, and on how we face this crisis together.
Love to you all. Stay home and stay safe.
However, things don't feel so rosy any more.
Every day since then has brought new restrictions, new closures, new ways of 'being'. The Squidge family has done their best, but it hasn't been easy... Personally, I've found myself very much more up-and-down. I have experienced an overwhelming mixture of emotions, often in just one day. Here are a few of the strongest.
Fear. Mainly of the unknown - when will we fall ill? How bad will it be? When will UK life be locked down? Will the NHS cope?
Sadness. We have had to deal with the limitations which need to be enforced at church - there's no public worship, and we've seen weddings cancelled and funerals limited.
Gratitude. There are lots of folk doing Good Things for friends and neighbours, or trying to give people access to activities online, or helping to calm and reassure those who are finding things difficult.
Worry. Almost constant, for family and friends who are vulnerable due to age or underlying health issues, or for those close to us who have been classed as key workers and continue to put themselves at risk of infection.
Anger. Directed against people who ignore the restrictions and guidelines which have been put in place to try to protect those who are most vulnerable and who are going to be working hard to protect us.
Disbelief. Life will probably never be the same again. We will always live with B.C and A.C - before Covid-19 and after Covid-19.
Joy. Seeing rainbows in windows, sharing comedy videos with the Squidgelings, taking a (safely distanced from others) walk and seeing signs of spring in my own and other people's gardens.
Panic. Needing to go out for some basic supplies like bread or cereal, and seeing empty shelves or no way of keeping a safe distance from other customers in a crowded store.
One minute I feel calm and content, editing Tilda 3 or colouring in my devotional book or reading or knitting. The next, it all comes crashing in again - the reality of what we are faced with - and I find I can't stop the tears from falling.
So yeah, it doesn't feel like a good place to be at the moment. But as one friend told me, when I posted I was on the verge of a panic attack after a trip to the local Aldi, talking about it all helps and there ARE things I can do to protect my mental health.
For anyone else who's struggling like me at the moment...you are not alone. Isolated, yes, but not alone. Do whatever you need to, to find the light in these dark times. In fact, I shall be lighting a candle in my window at 7pm tonight, to remind myself of the ultimate Light, Jesus.
Look for the light, and call out the darkness so it doesn't get a grip - on you, on your emotions, and on how we face this crisis together.
Love to you all. Stay home and stay safe.
Photo by Marc Ignacio |