Now it’s June and full lockdown has become phase 1 of lifting lockdown. The changes include being allowed to meet one other household outdoors (socially distanced of course) and being able to go a bit further afield for outdoor activities. In reality, for me, there is virtually no difference. I am not the sort of person people meet with socially at the best of times, let alone in a pandemic, but it has been nice going a wee bit further afield.
We had a lovely couple of hours at our allotment and a walk by the beach. Now my husband is going back to work after a week off (he’s a key worker so has been at work the whole time), the children and I will be primarily limited to our neighbourhood again.
I haven’t written in awhile. I’ve been busy with the children and, quite honestly, I simply don’t know what to say. I don’t really do anything interesting and I’ve been struggling a lot. I went into a big supermarket for the first time since this all started and it set my anxiety off. It’s not so much that I might catch covid 19 – or unwittingly pass it on – but the vastness of the place, the weirdness of the barriers and having to follow one way systems and everyone in masks and gloves… Its weird and scary and I’m still not used to this awful new normal.
I know I’m not alone in feeling this way, and if you feel this way too you are not alone. I know that it’s not much comfort though, because it’s not much comfort to me.
What keeps me going and stops me completely spiralling is my beautiful children. They’re too little to understand what’s going on, they are full of joy. Chances are Ezra will only remember snippets of this time, but I want those to be good memories for him. When I look back, I want to remember how amazing my kids are and not how awful new “normal” is.