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So, what is happening with us when it appears on the outside as if there is less and less to us? Who we are disappears, and who we were is forgotten, rarely referred to. And, when who we were IS referred to, it’s usually a watered-down, slightly distorted version. The “you” that you used to be is fading fast, and you think that the only way to re-instate the colour and depth of you is to do what you did, say what you said, think what you thought, and carry on.

But, what if you cant do that, no matter…

Photo by Michael Marcagi on Unsplash

As time has worn on, I’ve become more and more conflicted watching the daily Covid-19 update. On one hand, I’ve always been hoping for further evidence of the “flattening of the curve”, a lowering of cases and deaths day by day. I can’t wait for my parents, who are vulnerable, to escape from their house, or for my nephews to get back to school. And I can’t get my head around the worry, frustration and isolation felt by those living in cramped conditions or working on the frontline. …

This question has been haunting me since the first inkling that our lives may become restricted by the spread of Covid-19.

On the surface, it seems self-absorbed to think of such a thing while so many people are dying and the threat of further misery looms over us indefinitely. But let’s be honest, how many of us when faced with the possibility of such restriction visualised a not-too-distant future of not only social isolation, boredom and anxiety, but also of having sneakily stockpiled your alcohol of choice in order to hunker down and get through it. …

….have you actually experienced generalised anxiety?

It struck me recently while quickly throwing a tasty but boiling mug of hot chocolate down my (now swollen and irritated) throat, that I was outnumbered. Sitting in a garden centre restaurant, looking around at others, mostly elderly, who appeared relaxed, who had probably happily made the decision to go to such a place to RELAX, take their time and enjoy a day out with no pressure.

Through the eyes of anxiety

Me? I was there in an attempt to take part in a normal outing (like a “normal” person). I soon, and completely predictably, found myself rushing my…

Carol B

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