Here we are a couple of weeks later…
I’ve never found it harder to blog…
I can’t seem to think straight.
I go from frantic activity, printing, drawing, baking, gardening, housework…
…to complete horizontal torpor and mental fog.
Yesterday I seemed to spend much of the day nearly crying.
Or crying.
We had spent our isolated days in a little bubble of relative idyll, but now we are feeling the crisis breathing down our necks. We now know of people who have died from this terrible virus. And we know people who are very poorly with it, but that we are sure are going to get better. As sure as we can be. More hope than sure I suppose. But the threat is real and is there.
Our household is weird. We have someone at “medium risk”, and we have someone who is required to work on a school rota to be with the children of key workers, through what would have been a holiday. So we clean, and we wash clothes and we sit apart. When someone died we hesitated, and then we hugged anyway.
I’m getting much support for my morale from my neighbours in the WhatsApp group, my facebook group The Drawbridge (if you want to join, seek it out and ask).
But mostly from a group of friends who just pop up in my inbox, or texts on my phone, we talk as we always have, and then we talk of things we never have.
I know we are all tackling this in our own way. The physical is one thing, but I fear the mental toll in years to come. This isn’t just going to go away come Christmas is it?
There are so many people I just want to pull in and hold.
