It has been a difficult week. What with social-distancing, having to work from home and seeing my plans being cancelled I have felt quite bleak.

Through the fog of anxiety I have muddled through each day; visiting the Marshes on a few occasions to hand feed the robins. Sorting out my application for my Masters course. Trying my best to think ahead. But it has been tough.

c

With so much time on my hands to think, I have felt trapped in a bubble of trauma. I can’t help but feel like I’m slipping backwards to where I first started, and I hate that. To make so much progress for it to be taken away feels painful and unfair.

I’m so mad at myself for allowing myself to be in a position that could so badly impact my mental health in the first place. So angry that I could layer another awful experience on top of all the awful things I had to go through in such a short space of time. When I wake up from another nightmare I can’t help but beat myself up.

And I don’t know what I’m waiting for, to make it better. But it feels like I’m waiting. I just hope that this pandemic blows over as fast as it hit us – just hope for days spent with friends again. Routines gained. Hot coffee in the morning. The tube home each and every night.

f

I found so much comfort in routine over the past few weeks. To know that when Saturday rolled around it was time for bubble tea and vinyl digging with my best friend. Obviously those things can’t happen right now – and I see the weeks stretching ahead and the days blurring in to each other, time just melting away.

I know that everyone will be feeling the weight of this. But I wish I could just feel the weight of it and not the weight of everything else on top of it. I’m working so hard on myself, trying to keep all the pieces of me together. I wish the world would be a little kinder. I wish people would be a little kinder.

I deserve some peace.

i

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