Well. I don’t know about you, but I’m very much looking forward to this episode of ‘Punk’d’ to be over.
In all seriousness, I haven’t written because I’ve had no idea where to start and there is so much noise that I’ve wanted to curl up in a corner with my hands over my ears and just take care of our little family.
We are living through our very own post (or not quite post)-apocalyptic novel. The world has gone mad. I can’t hug my mum. My mum can’t hug my daughter. Even for notoriously awkward Brits, 2 metres is too far to stay away from your fellow humans (well, most of them) on a long term basis. We’re all seeing a lot more of our own four walls and a lot less of the inside of trains, offices, buses, schools, theatres, pubs (remember those?), cinemas, shops. The only people who are continuing to power through (and in fact, who are doing more than previously, taking more risks) are NHS workers, care workers, supermarket staff, rubbish collectors, delivery drivers and all those who do all the jobs we take for granted. I’m loathe to say heroes because it implies that they have a duty to ‘save us’ and the title puts incredible pressure on them. So I’ll just say fabulous, hardworking, brilliant humans instead.
But I’m not here to debate the merit of Government decisions or get involved in any conspiracy theories about how made-up this virus is (don’t even start – people be crazy). I’m feeling sad because in the midst of a fucking (excuse my language) shitstorm of a health emergency, we’ve decided that now is the time to judge each other to death.
Visiting a lonely relative (pre- ‘allowed bubbles’) versus not visiting a lonely relative. Sending your kids back to school or not. Getting a contact free takeaway delivered or living off the land. Online shopping or not. I’ve heard so much bitchiness and I’m exhausted. The ‘be kind’ cliche has unfortunately got a bit tired, but even so, come the fuck on.
How hard is it to accept that if something feels difficult, emotional, taxing, exhausting, confusing, impossible, or even brilliant…it is? None of us are inside one another’s minds. None of us are inside one another’s houses (obviously). None of us are feeling what another is feeling – even within our own household and family. I’m sick of the ‘stop moaning, my job is tougher than your job’ rants on social media. I’m fed up of ‘why are they moaning, they haven’t got kids, they’re living the dream right now’. I don’t want to hear ‘Well they’ve got a separate office and I’m just here working at my kitchen table’ or any other argument about why one life is more difficult than another. I also don’t want to read or hear judgement that someone may (god forbid) be finding the bright side or silver lining of the current situation. Good for them, I say!
THE WORLD IS SCARY RIGHT NOW. Can we just metaphorically hold each others (well washed) hands in the dark, share some funny memes and gifs, send happy cards and post, listen to good music, watch good TV, dance in our kitchens and do yoga in our living rooms, hug the ones we’re allowed to hug, do all of the Zoom quizzes, and support each other to get through this whichever way we need?
Family, feminism and frustrations 