Covid Confessions

 With brand new, harsher restrictions in place and Greater Manchester trying to avoid another local lockdown it seems like Covid-19 has suddenly become very real to a lot of people (as if the death toll and people affected before was just a myth). 

 Like mental health, we now all know someone whose been affected by this pandemic, with the lasting effects of it probably still being felt by the generations ahead of us thirty years down the line. After eight weeks of staying at home and going nuttier than a jar of peanut butter it finally sank into my thickly fluffy afroed head that stuff is always going to be hitting the fan no matter how hard I try and keep myself out of it all and instead of getting stressed I've taken a lot of deep breaths and counted to ten...about a hundred thousand times a day, because it's not my job to get worried about all the things that I can't fix, it's my job to stay cool, calm and collected.

If you had told me two years ago that I'd be living in a shared house, cutting housemates hair, piercing ears (after sterilising everything, of course), giving a gargantuan amount of hugs and neck rubs, cooking and dancing and giving fashion and relationship advice to people who have more experience than me about both, I'd have laughed at you.

And if you'd told me I'd have to find ways to comfort a lot of hurt and broken people I'd have asked you what planet you were from, because nothing had really prepared me for it all, nor did I think I'd be the one suited for such an important task.

Trying to find the right words to say to someone who's grieving when all I can do is listen while they sob down the phone. Or trying to stop two housemates from ripping each other apart when one's drunk and just can't understand how to give the other the time and space they need to calm down, because an issue of pride and money and being right means more to one person than the feelings of another. Talking someone down from a severe panic attack because their world just got shattered and the outside world won't cut them a break, knowing they feel ashamed that they can't keep it together when they have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing in my life prepared me with a perfect thing to say other than I love you and you're not alone, because at the end of it all  three small words can mean a lot to someone who's too numb to feel anything other than utterly lost and broken.  

I'm still stupidly naive in believing that the world is a wonderful place full of good people, and that things will work out even though I've witnessed some pretty horrendous stuff throughout the last few months that would probably destroy the most optimistic person in the entire world.  

Lockdown gave my inner anti-social angst teenager the perfect excuse to continue to avoid people but what ended up happening was I got to meet and interact with people on a deeper level which I never expected. 

 I find that when my anxiety isn't getting in the way I do love engaging with people (but for now only one person at a time because I'm still learning how to multitask) and I do love people, but my love comes with the condition of honesty. I still find I'm honest about my own opinion (I'm the woman that tells you you have food on your face, those prints don't work for your figure and you really need to dump them because you deserve better) but I'm also getting better at voicing it thanks to being in a shared house. 

 The sad thing about being in a shared house (other than the fights) is the gossip, the "they said, they said" and the petty bitching that goes on in a house full of adults when really, we should be doing our best to uplift each other because we're all in the same boat. I've done my share of listening to backstabs, secrets, stories and lies and now I find myself "switching off", adapting my expression to one of care and concern while mentally withdrawing into my "happy place" when it becomes too toxic and painful for me to listen and give it my full attention to. I remember that I'm the woman who takes bird seed to the birds, and goes to town and blows bubbles, doesn't smoke but owns a lighter because everyone she knows smokes, makes a lot of silly puns and has no answers for any of the questions thrown at her but is still glad she still gets to learn and try and find them every day.