PART THREE: Seven Weeks In (29th May 2020)
I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels like things are beginning to return to "normal", meaning that people have adapted quite well to
such an unpredictable situation. The last two weeks in lockdown have taken a rather surreal turn for me. Last week my heart and mind
were consumed not only with my own health issues but also with the third year anniversary of the May 22nd 2017 terror attack.
I cried a lot on Friday and I put my own issues aside to be there for a housemate. I think about those friends, families, victims and survivors
a lot and I marvel at how strong Manchester is as a city and it's the people that make it possible. This city has a gigantic heart which has
been shattered quite a few times, but whose broken pieces have been put back together in such a way that make it are just as beautiful
as any of the mosaics that make up it’s DNA. Three years later and I imagine it isn't any easier for anyone but we're all still trying our very best.
This city is filled with everyday unsung heroes, not just our NHS workers but also taxi drivers, parents, teachers, receptionists, student nurses
and you, because you're reading this now.
The past two weeks have presented a lot of personal challenges and in some cases my own anxiety and depression have won, but for others
it's lost but I'm glad I get to keep trying. I'm also really grateful to be in a city that takes mental health really seriously.
We've had absolutely gorgeous weather, the bees are just as busy as we all are, the roses and other flowers are blooming and I love parks
so getting out to go and feed the squirrels and avoid the drama of my housemates keeps me sane as well as watching people sneak into the
locked children's playground (which I find personally hilarious to watch). I've taken a lot of photographs of the things that have made me
smile/laugh and I've looked over them a lot over the past two weeks. and while most people might drown their sorrows in alcohol, I've drowned
mine in either sleep or music (of all genres) and cute animal videos on YouTube (those YouTube wormholes are really something!).
I've still found myself interacting with my housemates and sharing laughs but I'm finding out now that I need to take more time for myself then
I thought I did and one of the strangest thought I've had this week has had to be "I wish I didn't care so much," while knowing full well that no matter
what I do there's always going to be a minuscule part of me that'll care about others more than myself, and that isn't always a healthy trait to have
while living in a shared house. The thought is strange to me because I actually don't wish that I just want to get better at telling people that I really
need space......a couple of galaxies worth at least and every day I get the opportunity to (but I don't always take it). Shared housing can really test
someone's patience but it can also be a lot of fun.
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