A second lockdown seems imminent. And I'm terrified (reply to Cosmopolitan article by Jennifer Savin)

Cosmopolitan article by Jennife Savin 

As I sit writing this at my kitchen table on a Sunday afternoon, a blue sky shining above and upbeat 90's dance music blaring through headphones, it would be easy to paint a picture of my life as relatively carefree and easygoing. I'm planning on making chilli con carne for dinner, I have no need to get up early tomorrow and I have nothing more pressing to do than take my dog for a long walk in the countryside. Idyllic perhaps, if you're not a 24 year old degree-educated extroverted young woman who had to cancel her plans to travel to Australia earlier this year and has all but abandoned her hopes of moving back to London to become a journalist (which is me in case you hadn't guessed). I'm currently unemployed, having left my most recent supermarket job in hopes of finding something better, and I live with my family in a small village in one of Britain's many Brexit voting backwaters. I feel as if I am constantly stifling a desire to run into the middle of a field and scream at the top of my voice until my lungs hurt. 

I don't say this to inspire pity, but more because I worry that with the possibility of a second lockdown looming ever closer the few freedoms we can currently enjoy will be snatched away once again and life may appear hopeless for even more people. 13.5 million people in the UK are already living under new local restrictions and there are fears that in a few weeks we will be seeing infection levels similar to what we experienced back in March. The scientists will say that we must do what is necessary to prevent hospitalisations and even more deaths, and while of course they are right it doesn't make anyone feel any better to think of the long dark winter ahead, once again living under house arrest. According to The Health Foundation 69% of adults are worried about the impact of COVID 19 on their lives and mental health in general has worsened by 8.1% as a result of the pandemic. A study carried out by UCL of 90,000 UK adults found that levels of depression and anxiety fell at the beginning of June once lockdown began to ease, so it is not too much of a stretch to assume they may rise again if a second lockdown is implemented. It would seem at least that I'm not alone in my concerns.

I have written a lot about the pandemic and my feelings surrounding it, but there was one article in particular that lead me to write this piece. Writing for Cosmopolitan back in July, the writer Jennifer Savin expressed how much she had the enjoyed the opportunity to rest and recharge that lockdown had given her, and she is not alone in her feelings. For those suffering from burnout and struggling to juggle a never-ending stream of demands from work/family/friends/relationships lockdown must have seemed miraculous. I found her article incredibly interesting, as she spoke to clinical psychologist Dr. Helen McCarthy about how people are able to cope (or not) with lockdown. There are obviously many factors to consider; as a more outgoing person I will naturally struggle with having my social life restricted, however McCarthy also explained that "repetition teaches us what to expect from life", i.e. that those people who are used to seeing their life as blocks of time with a distinct goal at the end are better equipped to deal with lockdown's challenges. 

This got me thinking about my life before the disease struck. Granted this would have been horrible to deal with no matter when in my life it occurred, but my friends and I have suggested that had this happened 10 years ago it would not have seemed quite so catastrophic. 2010 was the year I turned 14, so what would have been different? Our family holiday to Greece that year might have been cancelled, and not being able to go to school and see my friends would have been a total bummer, however my time spent at home would not have altered that much. I would have spent the time studying, watching TV and chilling with my family, rather scarily not unlike how I am spending it now. Yet unlike in 2010 I now have spent 5 years living away from home at university, including one year in London (I still feel a pang in my stomach every time I see our glorious capital on TV), have lived abroad in Europe and travelled both with friends and solo there and in Central America. One year ago I felt like my life was just starting out, and there were all these new and exciting opportunities I had to take advantage of while I was still young, single and free. Oh. and sex was also still a thing in my life before coronavirus. My life was not at that point particularly structured, but I was enjoying the freedom I had. A career would have been nice, but even with a job I would have been master of my own destiny and plenty of time to figure out what that might be. School life is one block of time with a goal of adulthood at the end of it - it might feel like a long time but you know you have to suck it up until you're 18 and the fun can really begin. If lockdown had happened when I was 14, perhaps I would have coped far better than I currently am. 

I am unable to relate to the feeling of calm Savin says came over her while stuck at home. My anxiety has undoubtedly spiked and I have found myself bursting into tears randomly a whole lot more than I have ever done before. A second lockdown would surely only exarcebate the personal crises of those like me, desperately trying to work out what we should do next and how we can ever get back onto our predicted career trajectory now this mess has torn through so many industries, heightening the pressure in an already ultra competitive job market. Yet it is a decision that is out of our hands. Perhaps I should take a leaf out of her book and try to enjoy the little things I can now indulge in guilt-free - in truth I still have not read every book on my shelf or completed Netflix. Lockdown may allow me to do all these things, as well as protecting more vulnerable from the ever growing risk of catching COVID 19, but I hope I am allowed to say that it really sucks and if a second lockdown does indeed go ahead I have no idea how to free myself from the torment I described at the beginning of this article. My chances of happiness and fulfilment seem further away now than ever before, as we can no longer convince ourselves it might be over in a few months as we did at the beginning of the year. The fact is I thrive when I have a busy schedule and just a little bit of pressure hanging over me to ensure I get everything done, and I live for weekends spent with friends in thronging bars and clubs, eagerly anticipating what excitement the night may bring. These nuggets of normality look like specks on the horizon right now, yet there is no choice but to trudge towards them, however long and arduous the journey may be.