Covid19 - Have we forgotten what we learnt last year?

I always wonder why it is that we need a big, horrible life event to throw things into perspective. We can merrily waste our lives watching mediocre tv, hours on instagram, stuffing our faces with rubbish until someone you love announces they're terminally ill. For a few weeks everything changes. You vow to be different, live life to the fullest, ring your nan more often. Slowly but surely, life creeps back in and old habits start again. 

Last year, everyone had a big scary life event thrown at them. A global pandemic. For many of us it threw a sharp sense of perspective into place. We were all forced to stay at home, unable to see many of the people we love. Suddenly all the normal things we take for granted were taken away. Nipping to the shops. Going out for a drink with your pals at the end of the week.  Live Sport/Music/Theatre. Travel. Oh my dear, sweet travel.

It made us aware of what actually keeps the community going. Schools, hospitals, healthcare and somewhere to buy food. (And loo roll, apparently.) The things we need to survive; the basics. The UK running at its most basic level is more than what many countries around the world survive on normally and yet, grown adults were stockpiling and leaving nothing on the shelves for those who couldn't afford to do so. It was shameful, actually, how we behaved in those first few weeks. It is incredible what happens when we act out of fear.

I have the lungs of an old man and have to admit when the propaganda began, I was terrified. My dad called me, as well as my brother, panicking. Dad asked me to move in with our then 4 month old baby so they could look after us and be together. This is before the word bubble existed. It was like something out of a film script, something I couldn't comprehend. I was more worried about what would happen if my little man got this virus. He was so small and had been so unwell at birth. There was so much fear mongering, so much we didn't know. (By the by, instinct told me that I was more likely to lose my mind and kill my dearest mother than the virus, so we stayed put. Love you, Mum.)

Three weeks in lockdown? THREE WEEKS? I couldn't believe it. I remember being the friend who cancelled plans and a trip away just before it all kicked off, as with said lungs, I had to be careful. People thought I was mad. Three weeks turned into another three weeks... and then just like that it was 2021. 

Remember clapping for our carers? The first 2/3 times were really moving. After that, Terry up the road starting getting a bit carried away with his cowbell and kitchenware. It wore off. Lockdown continued. Parents started losing their minds. Hospital/health and social care staff were working hours we can't imagine. Teachers doing their job with their toddlers by their feet, expected to get the grades via zoom. (Don't get me started, I'm a teacher by trade.) Supermarket staff became heroes overnight. Huge sporting events cancelled. Boris Johnson's hair became more absurd by the day. 

I want to tell you i've held on to the things i've learned during lockdown, the bigger picture... but i'll be honest, I can't remember what I felt. I was a new mum. I was (and still am) in survival mode. Trying to figure out how to parent, without losing it completely, all within four walls and a walk a day. By this point I am head down, taking it day by day, muttering 'I'm just seriously f*cking over it'. 

I've said this several times but I truly believe that very few people have actually allowed themselves to consider and accept the utter insanity of the last year or so. Books and films are written about this sort of thing, it isn't real life. Except, it is. Being in lockdown is now reality, it's become the norm. I think there will be a collective form of PTSD that comes from this - something we all need to navigate. Coming back out of lockdown has caused anxiety for many of us, whilst others are dancing naked in the streets crying 'I'M FREE.'

I'm not going to sign up for a bungee jump over the grand canyon, get a tattoo or take flying lessons as a result of the last year. But, I am going to remember how much I missed the little things. Going for a coffee now feels like a holiday. I don't care if it's on a park bench with my best pal, it's a trip out with drink made by someone else and a face to face conversation with someone other than my husband and/or toddler. 

We have spent the last year so unable to do the things we want, that I will now do exactly what I want. I have put boundaries in place. I won't waste my time with soul suckers who me for granted. I will make the effort to write my blog every week, because I love it. I will not fret about giving my little one fish fingers for dinner when i'm knackered. I won't beat myself up about eating all the world's chocolate and putting on 300 stone. I'll try to be nicer to myself. 

I survived.