April 23, 2020
I went to HEB (regional grocery store) today. The city passed an ordinance requiring all people to wear a mask or cloth face covering a few days ago and people are starting to transition to following that rule. Most people were wearing a mask or bandanna of some kind but very few were covering their face correctly. I saw employees take the mask off to talk to people, then put them back on. Scary stuff! Do these people not know how to properly use them or do they just not care? It was terrifying to shop because no one was respectful of the social distancing. I’m so scared I’ll get the virus and pass it on to my grandma since we live together. I’m scared of the complications the virus could have for me too. I’ve had bronchitis twice I’m the last 5 years and I’m worried this time I’ll get pneumonia. This crisis is aggravating my anxiety, all my dreams are nightmares now and I’m scared every time someone in my house leaves. I worry they’ll be exposed to Covid 19 and bring it home.

I have nothing but time. And time is such an intangible, nebulous thing, that sometimes it feels as though I have nothing at all.

I’m better off than most. A perpetual student, I still live at home with my mother, which, up until the start of this whole crisis, had always seemed embarrassing and shameful. Now, I’m glad of it. I don’t have the threat of being made homeless because I don’t have a job; I cook and clean for my mum when she’s at work in the hospital, and that’s enough. I’m not on my own. I have human contact every day, albeit with only one person, and we get on well. I have someone I can physically touch (not that I do; we’re not that kind of family, but I could, and that’s enough) and talk to in person. I have the most excellent group of friends that anyone could wish for. If ever this whole situation gets too much, I only have to call someone, and someone will answer and commiserate with me, and I don’t bear the burden alone. I’m relatively healthy, at 27 and with no serious underlying health conditions, and I have access to most of the food I want – although my mother did have to buy some flour for £2 from someone at work (“on the black market,” we joked) because we didn’t have any for a fortnight and had resorted to freezing hot dog buns and defrosting them when we needed bread. But still. We had bread. I’m lucky, relatively, and that really does mean a lot. There are people with so much less than me. People whose landlords have told them to move out if they can’t pay their rent without a job. People who won’t see their partners for months and months. People who won’t see another living soul.

And the greatest silver lining of all, bizarrely, is that 2019 summarily killed off half my family members, including all but one of those who would now be in the ‘vulnerable’ category for coronavirus. I have so many fewer people to worry about than my friends, who fret about and phone their grandparents every day. I simply don’t have those people to worry about any more. For me, the biggest worry is that my mother will contract it at work, and none of us really knows how anyone will respond to an unknown virus. So, worry is not such a stranger after all, but it takes a greyer shape for me. Something less dark and fearsome than it appears to those with more to lose. And it’s the strangest thing, of course it is, to think about my Year Of Grief as a good thing. At the time, it was the end of my world. Only now, the whole world seems to have ended, and mine might well be the only one still sort of moving along, albeit slowly, emptily, pointlessly for now.

So, things to be grateful for: that I could attend the funerals of all my loved ones last year. That I held their hand as they died. That I was the last thing they saw.

I cannot even fathom the grief that the whole world will wake up to when all this is over. In medical terms, it’s going to be a crisis of mental health that I’m not sure we can handle as a country. In human terms, we are all going to need each other in ways that I only hope we’ll be able to give. There are so many things we will all have to come to terms with. The things unseen. Funerals in empty chapels, gravesites unvisited. The knowledge that their loved ones’ hands were held by strangers; strangers who cared immensely, who risked their own lives to hold those hands, but strangers nonetheless. People who were simply here one day and not the next, and in death they become a number, coalesced into a death toll. Their relatives are victims in a way mine were not. More than simply someone who has died, and somehow so much less for it. But they are not less. They were people, and they were loved, and it is unfathomable that they are not here any more. They should be here.

I was allowed the space to grieve when my loved ones died. I was allowed to mourn them because the whole world around me was going on without me, and everyone recognised this as something wrong, something terrible, something unfair. I got phone calls and commiserations and messages and cards. I’m sorry for your loss. Do you need anything? Now, who has anything left to give? Is there anyone who hasn’t lost someone? Who hasn’t, in a way, lost everything? What kind of support is available now for those who lose someone?

It’s so hard to articulate what I want to say. Words haven’t come easy since this all started. Perhaps because they feel futile in a way they never have before. Words are all the times politicians promised to keep the virus at bay, to uphold the NHS, to look after us. To do what was right. And they didn’t. There are those who disagree with me, and they’re allowed to. We’ve all seen the arguments on Twitter and Facebook about whether we should be ‘politicising this crisis’ now by criticising the government’s response, or lack thereof. It’s an invalid argument. The crisis was politicised for us when the government initially opted to let the virus move through the population and kill ‘only’ the most vulnerable. ‘Herd immunity,’ they said; they didn’t say it would be at the expense of so many of the herd. Words failed us all.

I have found lockdown a time of vivid dichotomies.

My job involves visiting GP practices and pharmacies, promoting medicines for a large pharmaceutical company. When we first heard about the virus, for a couple of weeks I was aware that with working in that area, I could unintentionally spread germs from one healthcare setting to another. We then heard that hospitals had banned reps from visiting…and at the end of that week, we were told to work from home.

My company is not UK based, but European and I have been so grateful for their leadership at this time. They quickly announced our homeworking and that our jobs were secure. The company arranged for online yoga and meditation/mindfulness sessions, on 4 days a week, then added an extra session on the 5th day for kids to join in with parents. I am blessed with my working situation.

However, we have been given so much online work to do, that, for the first 2 weeks at least, I felt swamped. It seemed that they wanted us sales reps to be kept busy in case we were bored, when a lot of time I was contacting and being contacted by customers, wanting reassurance about patient materials, wanting to be reassured about drug stocks (of which we had plenty, ready for any Brexit challenges). I think, like so many, people, in the first 2 weeks, my mind was running between pure panic, and fear and feeling guilty as my life and livelihood was blessed. I live with my husband and an adult daughter – so not alone, like my mum who is in her 80s and living 20 miles away.

As a family we have been trying to follow the rules on social distancing…. I haven’t hugged my granddaughters/ other two daughters since before ‘lockdown’. Thank God for video calling, and I see the little ones growing before my eyes. It’s great to speak to them and see them.

Strangely, the panic subsided after a couple of weeks. I often wondered how folk coped when living through the war years, the prospect of being bombed etc.. I sort of get it now. Corona virus is a deadly threat -but it’s impossible to keep at that high level of intense panic all the time. I find that when looking at the national figure of deaths….I couldn’t take it in. A coupld of the earlier totals added to over 900 in a couple of days. Someone said to me that it was like the death toll from ’10 Hillsborough disasters’, and that brought me up short. I remember vividly watching the Hillsborough disaster unfold. Every year there is a memorial and to think that 94 people went to a football match and never came home…and this is 10 times that amount… my brain finally accepted what that meant.

I think we may be just past the peak. The daily death totally have come down to around 500 (some days have been 700)…and it’s easy to ‘almost’ think, that’s good…..but then I realise that there are 500 families, coping with tragedy. Even 1 death is one to many.

There has been a lot of nationalism, clapping on the doorstep for the NHS every Thursday night. I have a shamanic drum, so have been banging that. However, there is a lot of ‘shaming’ online for those who haven’t seen their neighbours come out. Some issues too with people setting off fireworks and disturbing pets. Recently some company tried to get people to set off chinese lanterns to celebrate (the consensus was that it was probably a chinese lantern company trying to get sales!), luckily that came to nothing.

I feel that the NHS has been let down by the government – their delays in taking action in the first place, lies about PPE being resourced (they said a big shipment was on it’s way from Turkey to arrive last Sunday, and apparently the order hadn’t even been placed!), false stories on the internet from so called NHS employees, that turn out to be fake accounts.

There has been nationalism re Boris Johnson, the PM, being ill with Covid (some think he was not actually that ill, as he seemed to be discharged from ‘intensive care’ very quickly!). There were quite a few comments on the internet saying he got what he deserved. I really did hope he made a full recovery – I am human – as I would wish anyone a good and speedy recovery. However, I think this government, including Boris, needs to be held to account. Some people think that to question them is not patriotic and we should all be behind the government at this unprecedented time. If all the death tolls from countries were similar I would possibly agree. But they are not. We have one of the worst death tolls in the world. Why? Questions need to be asked and answered and people held to account. We owe it to all the families that have lost loved ones and to the NHS and other staff, killed ‘in the line of duty’. It has been described frequently as a war…and staff ‘on the front line’. However, the soldiers in this war didn’t know it was coming, are amongst the lowest paid and have gone into battle without proper protective equipment.

Finally, last night my dog was ill. He had been vomiting on the Saturday, on Sunday seemed fine but on Monday stopped eating. Monday night he looked very sorry for himself, tail between his legs and ears back and shivering. I phoned the night time vet which was 30 minutes drive away…was told to go there and wait in the car outside their building.
When I arrived, a veterinary nurse came out of the building in full gown and mask, asked me to roll the car window down a touch, and took the history of his illness. She went back into the veterinary surgery and I waited whilst two other dogs – waiting in other cars – went in to be seen first.

After a wait, the vet then came out gowned and masked and collected my dog – we aren’t allowed in the buildings, but I am so grateful the vets are open still. I had been drinking quite a bit of coffee that afternoon (drinking coffee/tea and eating snacks – weight gain – are becoming a real issue) and wondered where on earth I could go, to visit a toilet – all pubs and cafes had been closed and even at 8pm, no supermarkets were open. I remembered the service station on the motorway close by- checked online and luckily they were open. So whilst my dog was being examined, I drove up to the service station – usually a very busy venue. I was the only car in the huge car park. All the cafes and shops inside were closed – apart from W H Smith – but the toilets were open. After as I drove away to collect my dog, hoping he was fine, I stopped and looked back – the empty car park seemed to speak volumes of this strange time that we are living in.

p.s. my dog was fine….he’s a scavenger and must have picked up something and ate it!

21 April 2020 – I can’t tell if I hate my job.

I used to love my job. I found it so interesting, and the week lockdown started I was due to start a training course I’ve been waiting months for – I was so excited, I had new stationery picked out and everything. Instead I’ve been at home with a laptop trying to figure out homeworking. Or as I now say, which is helping me cope kinda, “I’m not working from home. I’m at my home during a crisis, trying to work.” The distinction might be small, but it’s easier not to hate myself in the less productive days when I think about it that way.

I have struggled with homeworking. The office I work for has managed to increase the numbers of people working from home. I was given a laptop day one (day one being 23 March, to start working from home on 24 March) and we’ve had a lot of people join this week. They all seem so excited to join in, while I just feel sort of dead inside. I wake up and dread going downstairs and switching on my laptop. I hate it. I hate it so much. Other people say things to me like “Oh it’s not so bad once you get used to it, you just adjust, don’t you?” and I reply “Oh yeah you do after a bit” but I’m lying and I don’t feel like I’ve had this experience. I am physically able to work from home, I have adjusted to the different equipment, a laptop instead of a desktop with two monitors etc. I can mostly do my job, in a physical equipment sense. But mentally I hate every second. I feel less confident in myself and the decisions I make. I second guess myself and everything takes longer. I have to check stuff with colleagues more often. I feel like my knowledge base of work I did everyday is shrinking. I think “I know this. I’m sure I’m right.” Then spend 30 minutes deliberating and checking the resources we have before messaging a colleague to say, “Hey just want to run this by you” and I’m convinced everyone thinks I’m dumber now. I don’t even know why I thought I was good enough to go on the course I was supposed to be on right now. Do I even want to go on the course anymore, or has this experience ruined any joy I had for my job? I can’t tell if when this is all over, I’ll even like my job anymore.

We have a meeting everyday. I’ve realised that my tone became more clipped and short and frustrated over the last month, and I think it’s made people afraid to talk to me, because its clear I’m very stressed and may not be coping well. But with no one asking me for help, or a second opinion, I just feel more alone. I’m also paranoid, and started thinking maybe they just think I’m too stupid to ask questions of. I’m trying to manage my tone after realising this in the last few days, but as soon as I soften it I feel like I’m just going to cry. I exist in three zones while working – angry and frustrated, hollow and uncaring, and the world is ending so I’m going to cry and sob and wish my parents were here. So far I’ve only cried to three people on a work call, which I’m calling a win.

I’m also terrified because I really wanted to progress in my role. But if managers see I’m currently a wreck, who can’t seem to cope, then how will I ever get further? I’m even wondering if I deserve to go further – I feel like I can barely do my job as it is.

Then I realise that I’m complaining about homeworking and losing interest in my job, when there are people who have to put themselves at risk everyday. There are people who are out of work, and wondering where their next rent payment will come from. There are people in way worse positions than I am in my pretty cushy job. And then I feel guilty for being upset and moaning like a child, and I think I might be a bad person for being miserable.

April 21st 2020

I debated whether or not to write this. I’m feeling pretty self-involved right now. And I know things are so much worse for a lot of people. My friend’s Grandma died in a care-home over the weekend and she can’t go home to be with her family. My brother is working non-stop without proper PPE. My dad has been furloughed (though at least he hasn’t lost his job). I know I’m so lucky to still be working (and being paid), and my living situation is secure, so I know I have no right to be as pathetic as I am being. But I’m finding it hard to look at things objectively at the moment.

Living in the present is no longer working for me. My present feels meaningless and unfulfilling. I’m not sure what amount of meaning or fulfilment I’m supposed to have in this situation, but it seems like everyone else is doing better than me at the moment.

I get up and work everyday. Which is fine. It fills the time. Work is going okay – our team is doing what we’ve said we’ll do, we’re making progress on our projects and I’ve got time to learn things, which is good. But then work ends, and then what? I’ve been doing some coursework to try and feel like I’m being productive. My concentration is awful most of the time. I haven’t been outside in a while. I feel weird about it, but I’m not sure why.

I built a blanket fort on the weekend. Partly because my gas ran out and I can’t face dealing with trying to top-up my gas card – I figured being in a fort would be warmer, which turned out to be true. I thought I’d take it down after a couple of days, but I’m finding it strangely comforting. Life is so far from normal right now, why not hole-up in a blanket fort in an effort to hide from reality?

The lack of an endpoint is causing me significant frustration. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. Working on my own is boring, and I still count the days til the weekend, but then what? Two days of fuck-all. What’s the point? I’m so tired of being alone. Video chat is fine, but then it ends and I’m alone again. I’m craving a hug, which is kind of unusual for me.

I’m so far from content in the present and I can’t think about the future…
I’m trying to fend off a mounting existential crisis. But I’m running out of solutions. Guess I’ll just have to hide in my fort until I figure it out.

Friday 17 April 2020 – ‘Message from the Vice-Chancellor’

I feel that adapting to the ‘new normal’ has not been as difficult for me as it might have been for others – I am not the most extroverted of people, but also having grown up as a young carer I became used to spending a lot of time at home, distanced from others.
And yet, officially hearing from the vice-chancellor of my university that my expectant graduation ceremony will no longer take place hit me – something so trivial given the ongoing horrors and tragedy, yet it hit me how uncertain the future is. Unlike some of my friends, I am not upset nor angry but rather the bemused by the out-of-the-blue realisation of how fragile things really are. Events that appear unquestionable, expectant, solidified without our diaries for months, are just dissolving.

The 4 years of my degree have been working towards a Degree Show – a huge exhibition, a blockbuster celebration, an accumulation of everything. Even this has fallen away – how does one continue to make art when that art cannot be ‘shown’ in its physicality? I think this is a major question facing all practising artists and art students. One positive thing is perhaps how this circumstance is forcing museums and galleries to adjust, to make the collections viewable online or in readily available print – something which should have happened years ago so that those who are not able to leave their home or travel, do not miss out.

Along this line, I wish online grocery deliveries would acknowledge that there are people who have always relied upon these services and now cannot access them due to the influx – if you are physically and mentally able, please please please do continue shopping at your usual supermarket (of course with precautions, and only for essential food shops) as you could be taking up a food delivery slot that another family relies upon.

I haven’t left the house in 4 weeks and 1 day, I have stopped reading or watching the news, it is hard not being able to plan ahead, I wish people would not stockpile, I wish I had a cat …

The prospect of living through a significant period of history has always been a desire of mine. I have always looked at events such as the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom and thought to myself; “Wow, I wish that I was there. That would be a brilliant story to retell my future family.” I never envisaged that my notable historical experience to be a mass pandemic.

I live in a fairly small town in Lincolnshire, with a population of around 45,000. No deaths or cases of Covid-19 have occurred as of yet. Compared to the capital and other cities in the country, I feel like I am living in a somewhat isolated (pardon the pun) bubble, to the true horrors of Covid-19. I obviously keep up to date with the developments of the virus within the country and the world, so have been virtually exposed to the despairing situation that humanity faces. But, if I was to be asked how I felt through these times, my response would be very limited. I can only describe how I feel as what seems to be a state of existing. Life is now dystopian. All forms of normality I once had have been stripped away and for someone who depends upon routine, this has been particularly hard. Being in such a mindset, leaves one to feel very pessimistic for the future. The likelihood of returning to normality seems like a far away goal. Describing myself as a somewhat emotionless person during these times, however, is a bit of an exaggeration and allows me to be perceived as not caring for the families that are suffering from the effects of Coronavirus – that is not the case. I grieve for those that have lost love ones, I feel for the people that are spending time in isolation on their own and my heart is both sombre and proud of the NHS and key workers who put their lives on the line for the sake of the country. Maybe I shouldn’t feel so hopeless and deadpan then, when there are many, many people who have it far worse than me. All I am doing is sitting at home, completing university work, keeping myself occupied and I am luckily surrounded by my family who are all safe and healthy. I am in a very fortunate position.

My description of current times casts a very dark shadow over the world, and the world is a dark place at the moment, but that doesn’t mean that people’s spirits have to be dimmed. Regardless of political stance and your views of a 99 year old man walking lengths of his back garden for an organisation that should be completely funded by the government, the extraordinary courage and determination of Captain Tom Moore should be a signal to society that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Solidarity and benevolence will see us through these times.

Friday 17th April 2020
After surviving what felt like eternity with the first three weeks of being in lock down, the government have extended those restrictions for another three weeks. It feels very strange to know that I am living through something that will be remembered in history and eventually taught to students. I never really thought I would live through anything significant like this.

I am not particularly sure if the government know exactly what they are doing, with people still coming in and out of the country and the state of hospitals at the moment. The NHS is the heart of the United Kingdom currently, but still massively underfunded and therefore struggling during a pandemic. My mother is a nurse and the amount of stress placed upon them is so heartbreaking as they risk their health to save lives. It is a sad time for everyone.

I am also feeling undervalued as a university student as we haven’t been given much information (nationally) about how things will continue with our degrees. Other than to just carry on. I feel as if the government have disregarded us older students because we are adults, rather than cancelling exams and assignments like GCSE and A-Level students. I would like to see more support offered during this difficult time.

So today the lockdown was extended by another three weeks till May 7, so far I have not been as phased by the situation as I thought I would be. I have been doing my dissertation everyday which has kept me entertained and stopping each day at 5pm to watch the Government’s daily press briefing which I think are quite good and generally informative. It is quite hard to concentrate at times because all you can think of is that we are in an unprecedented global pandemic, and there never seems to be an end date, the whole situation is crazy. I think it is the fact that there is nothing to look forward to and the things that we would be looking forward to have been cancelled such as graduation and summer holidays. I am happy I have my dissertation to do, which in fact discusses Mass-Observation and how it was founded as a result of the abdication. A few days we got a letter from Boris Johnson reinforcing the reasons why we need to stay at home and social distance, I am going to keep it as a momentum of the occasion, if momentum is the correct word. I spoke to my Granny on the phone today and I really feel sorry for all my grandparents and the elderly having to live through this awful situation. She was telling me how bored she is and how she sorting out lots draws in her house. It was nice to speak to her and her that she Grandpa are coping. I have started running each morning before I do my university work and learning Dutch in the evenings, I really want to use this opportunity to better myself as much as we can in these situations. I am really interested to find out if the lockdown will be extended by another three weeks, I have feeling it will be extended far beyond the next three weeks and change life as we know it.