Sunday 19 April 2020

Sometimes it's not great


This won’t be a jaunty, upbeat post because I wasn’t really in a jaunty, upbeat place when I wrote it, more of a reflective one. I haven’t had a terrible week but there have been terrible moments within it. I’ve had moments where I feel like an utter failure - as a mother, as a worker and as a human being…. then my period arrived and the angst and self loathing shrank to a manageable size. 

The grief from losing my father, just after Christmas, is still very much there. This is understandable, I guess, but maybe I’ve been trying to tidy it away for the lockdown period, to make coping with the restrictions that have been placed on us more bearable, but it usually grabs me just as I’m going to bed. I still can’t see photos of my Dad without crying and I feel guilty for not thinking about him more. This very unusual situation of collective crisis has created a general forum where people can share what they’re going through - the strictures, the frustrations and perhaps the unexpected benefits. Grief on the other hand, can be a very solitary experience. I can try and channel my sorrow into anger at people (joggers) selfishly veering towards me on the path and my family when we are having our daily walk or I could try to confront the real source of the feelings.


Traditionally I’ve always tried to deal with feelings by outrunning them. Not literally, otherwise I’d be more svelte, but figuratively, by being on the move all the time. The reason I feared that lockdown would feel like being buried alive was because ‘STAY AT HOME’ was the antithesis of what I felt like doing. Home was a place where thoughts became most intrusive, hectic and unhelpful - there was nowhere to hide. I wanted to be constantly on the move - I wanted to be at the pub, or a pub quiz, or the theatre, cinema, park, public gardens, swimming pool, even work - anywhere but home. It wasn’t that I wanted to be away from my family, I was happy to have them with me, wherever I went, I just didn’t want to be at home. And all the places that are shut off from us now, were all the places where I chose to hide. Of course, I’ve found a way of replicating the sensation of movement - the exercise, the dance, the daily walk (yes, actual movement, I know) and I’ve found an effective way of blocking things out and hiding in a bubble at home, thus creating the illusion of space around me, via some super expensive, noise cancelling headphones. Anti-social, maybe and not dealing with the underlying cause of the angst, the hyper-sensitivity to noise, but absolutely necessary, right now. Just as I couldn’t face up to the implications of the Coronavirus, when news of it was first broadcast, I can’t deal with any heavy soul searching as I deal with the enforced lockdown now.
As I’ve said before, one way or another, all of my energy is focused toward staying sane.

Are you looking for some light relief?
I've been reading and enjoying The Flat Share by Beth O'Leary.


I've been enjoying the plays broadcast on YouTube by the National Theatre.
I've made some green slodge aka watercress soup. 

Tasty!

I very much enjoyed Quiz - the TV program based on the Who Wants to be a Millionaire? coughing scandal. https://www.itv.com/hub/quiz/2a7854
I'd seen the play a couple of years ago when a friend won tickets - very appropriately as a prize for winning a quiz, and the play was fantastic! We got to vote on 'ask the audience' voting keypads, at the beginning and end of the play as to whether we thought the Ingrams were guilty or not. The audience were swayed by the play's argument and voted very differently at the end. I was worried that the TV program wouldn't measure up but it was very enjoyable and of course, Michael Sheen did his usual chameleon act when he morphed into Chris Tarrant.
Sian Clifford, Matthew Macfadyen and Michael Sheen as Diana and Charles Ingram and Chris Tarrant

So, light and shade, yeah, light and shade. 
I also attended a talk on the concept of ‘Wintering’ by the author Katherine May, who has written a book with the same name. The book describes Wintering as: 
 "a fallow period in life when you're cut off from the world, feeling rejected, sidelined, blocked from progress, or cast into the role of an outsider."

The talk was quite helpful and comforting. I’ve ordered the book from Hive books - a site where they support the local bookshops and source the stock from there. https://www.hive.co.uk/?gclid=Cj0KEQiA-NqyBRC905irsrLr-LUBEiQAWJFYTs6sUijqVCt_gmRe2G6e87qBDqXpPuBMdsfoRjd7eS8aApLQ8P8HAQ 
I’ll let you know how I get on.

Take care. xx

No comments:

Post a Comment