One of the most curious things about my anxiety disorder is the way it alters when things are really bad. My limited science brain thinks it must be adrenaline taking over – perhaps protecting me from really feeling the intensity of panic. That’s not to say I’m not afraid. I am, like we all are. I’m afraid for elderly parents, I’m afraid for ill friends. I’m afraid of how much this is going to change our lives and the things I love. Unlike average anxiety though, I don’t feel crippled, inert, unable to breathe. I feel the exact opposite, and remarked to a kind friend yesterday that I felt better than I had in ages. There will be a crash – but at least self isolation means I don’t have to force myself to go out.

I feel lucky to be in a safe space, with a kind husband and kind neighbours. Facing this in any sort of abusive relationship or in place where your home isn’t a safe space must be beyond terrifying, and checking on people is more important than ever, whether it’s by putting notes through doors, or making social media groups, keeping people involved, making them know they’re missed is invaluable. I’ve no big plans for this period (apparently Shakespeare wrote King Lear during a quarantine period) but I’ll keep writing this blog, as well as writing creatively, maybe sharing more too. I suspect there’ll be a heap of isolation tales…

Keep safe, keep others safe and wash your hands!


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