A Week In My Life (in Lockdown)

It’s been a while since I did a ‘week in my life’ post and I haven’t done one about lockdown, mainly because I feel like most of my days are incredibly similar, which wouldn’t exactly make for a scintillating post. But I saw the idea in my ‘blog ideas’ list and realised that over the last few weeks, I have managed to be a bit more productive (with my mental health fluctuating so wildly, it’s hard to really get into anything) and so each day is looking more like its own entity.

The week in this post started on Monday 22nd June and ended on Sunday 28th June.


MONDAY

Even though I don’t have anywhere to be, I’m still getting up relatively early, partly because I’m at my best mentally in the mornings (generally) and partly because we have five cats who are always very eager for breakfast. They’re actually really helpful when it comes to maintaining some kind of routine; sometimes I think it’s easier when there’s something external to build from, rather than trying to build it from nothing.

Cats fed, I settled on the sofa and replied to all the messages on my phone that were waiting for me. In times of mental distress (which there is a lot of lately), I tend to abandon my phone and withdraw from communications because it’s all just more than I can handle. However, it can then be a rather daunting task when I feel able to engage again. But I managed to reply to everyone and messaged some of my friends that I hadn’t checked in with for a while.

I spent the morning sorting through my tech box of electronics, my store of everything electronic, from spare pairs of headphones to camera equipment to cables I know longer own the devices for – I’m sorting through all of my possessions and this was next on my list. I went through it, throwing out the stuff that was damaged or so old that it was no longer useable, piling up some stuff to give away, and organising the remaining items by function. I certainly don’t need the big box anymore.

I didn’t stop there though. I went through all eight of the USB sticks I’d found, deleting the files I didn’t want and storing those I did. I now have multiple memory sticks empty and ready to go whenever I need them. And then I started on the hard drives, most of them assorted back ups of my laptop. That’s a job that’s going to take considerable time. But I’ve assigned each of them a function and started moving the relevant files. I can’t have done more than a quarter of the work and even that took most of the day.

Eventually I gave up, having spent so much time on it that I kept getting confused about which hard drive I was in. So I disconnected them, packed them away, and did a couple of hours work on my blog post for the kittens’ birthday post (here). Me and Mum had dinner together, continuing our rewatch of Nikita, and then I spent about forty five minutes at the piano, during which I recorded this:

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This song calms my soul ♥️ @sarabareilles

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Then we fed and settled the cats before going to bed.


TUESDAY

It was a quiet day. I spent most of it working at my laptop, finishing the blog post for the kittens’ birthday the next day and writing the one about coming off Pregabalin (here). I also planned out the next few as well, with sketches of the rough post structures. So it felt like a pretty productive day, which I was pleased with.

My Mum and I usually work pretty companionably since her desk is in the living room and I tend to work from the sofa (it’s better for the physical pain that I usually deal with to some degree or another – I need to get a specifically supportive desk chair but I’d have to go and try them out, something I can’t – and wouldn’t choose to – do until it’s safe). But recently she’s been working at the kitchen table, paper spread out around her as she transfers her accounts to a new system. It’s weird, going from being basically on top of each other to almost feeling like I’m alone in the house.

We reconvened in the evening, having dinner with several more episodes of Nikita, and then I sat at the piano, playing for almost an hour, methodically practicing each of the songs I’ve been learning recently. Thank god my neighbours are so easygoing and even supportive of my music because I usually ending up playing fairly late at night and even though I try to keep it as quiet as possible, some noise does drift through the walls.

I was just going to bed when I got a Twitter notification that Ingrid Andress is doing a virtual show on Tuesday 30th June. I love her and was supposed to see her live when I went to the US (before the trip was scuttled by the pandemic) so that was really exciting. I went straight to my computer to get a ticket and thank god I did because it was already difficult to get a ticket. I also managed to get a meet and greet, which should be fun; I have no idea how it will work online (plus it will be about 3am my time…) but it will be really nice to see her again. I’ve been going to her shows and chatting with her afterwards for the last several years so I’m glad that lockdown won’t prevent that.

(Note from present me to past me: it was an awesome show and I really enjoyed my chat with Ingrid.)


WEDNESDAY

It was the kittens’ first birthday so we didn’t delay in heading downstairs and presenting them with their present. They both had a go at it but it was Sweep that eventually managed to open it, revealing the birthday cake shaped toy. Despite not having had breakfast yet, they were both very excited and played with it enthusiastically. It remained in tact for about twenty minutes before Sooty managed to tear the felt flame of the candle off it… Sigh. Ah well. They don’t seem to mind.

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Unfortunately, I ended up getting caught in a panic spiral about the loosening of lockdown (I know I’m not the only one who feels that the government cares more about the economy and their reputation than the lives of the British public) and the scientists declaring that they feel we’ll still be dealing with the pandemic next year, that a second wave is extremely likely. The idea of feeling so terrified and so unsafe and so worried for my loved ones (plus the uncertainty around my education and my career) for all that time is exhausting and makes me feel almost overwhelmingly sick.

In hindsight, it probably turned into a meltdown but I didn’t really process that thought at the time. The intensity of my emotions are so extreme at the moment that it can be hard to clearly identify them within the mess I’m feeling. In the end, I was so worn out that I fell asleep on the sofa and didn’t wake up for three hours, a common reaction to a meltdown, for me at least.

When I woke up, I didn’t feel better – that’s not how it works, at least for me – but my head was a little clearer. WordPress had been playing up on my laptop so I hadn’t been able to post the kitten birthday post but eventually I got it up, complete with a video of the kittens: one second a day everyday for the first year of their lives…

In the evening, I spent about an hour on FaceTime with one of my friends. We had a good moan about missing each other and the things we can’t do, drooled over the guitars we wish we could afford, made plans for the first time we can hang out properly again. It was fun and nice and as normal as you can get in a time like this. Mum had wandered in and out of the room during the conversation and commented that we sounded like we always do, hanging out as if we were on opposite ends of the sofa. That made me laugh.

We had dinner together and continued our rewatch of Nikita, staying up far too late.


THURSDAY

I’d struggled to sleep with the heat so I woke up, still tired and with a throbbing headache. Not exactly the greatest start to a day.

I sorted the cats and then spent some time tidying the living room and sorting out my space: it had gotten pretty chaotic with the various stationary and electronics that I always have within reach due to my frequent need for them. It’s definitely better and I’m always calmer and more productive in a tidy space.

I’d intended to do some more organising of my hard drives but the rising heat (over 30 degrees) was only making my headache worse. I ended up lying on the sofa with my eyes covered, waiting for the painkillers to kick in, except I accidentally fell asleep and didn’t wake up until about three hours later. Thankfully I slept through the hottest part of the day: I don’t cope very well in the heat. The cats were struggling too, poor babies, stretched out on the cool of the kitchen floor. I’ve never seen them look so flat.

I didn’t manage a huge amount because the headache never really abated but I did get a few bits and pieces done: some research for the blog, some blog writing, watching a bit of TV. But most of my energy was focussed on managing the headache; I spent a lot of time with my eyes covered, blocking out the light.

Mum and I kept to our evening routine of dinner and Nikita rewatch (we’ve just finished season two, which has such a great finale) and then, to finish off the evening, I listened to the two tracks that Richard (my writing partner) had sent me and gave him my feedback. I loved them: they’re both really cool but I had a handful of comments that can hopefully be of use. I also sent him a song of mine to listen to before we start work on the production.

That done, I went to bed but it was so hot and humid that I felt like I could barely breathe.


FRIDAY

It was so hot that I just couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t until about five am that I finally drifted off. It was uncomfortable and frustrating but as least I got to witness the incredible thunderstorm that started at about two. There was a lot of lightning and heavy rain, although not much thunder. I sat up and watched it for ages. I absolutely love thunderstorms; they’re my favourite kind of weather. The air just feels different and I feel lighter. Apparently thunderstorms create negative ions in the atmosphere and that’s where that feeling comes from (x).

I struggled up at eight thirty and managed to have breakfast and a shower in time to relax for a moment and collect my thoughts before my therapy session. It’s taken me a while to get used to therapy via Zoom and while I still think face to face is better (and I really miss it), I am really grateful for it. I know that going without therapy during this time would be incredibly damaging for my mental health. I think it’s probably fair to say that we’re not necessarily focussed on making progress right now, rather we’re focussing on managing my emotions and the things I’m struggling with in the present moment, like my overwhelming fear of going outside and my sudden inability to sleep properly to name a few. I mean, technically it all comes under distress tolerance, one of the fundamental areas of Dialectical Behaviour Therapy so I guess we are making progress in a sense. Anyway, we had a pretty intense session because of several tough things going on at the moment, not helped by my lack of sleep. By the time we were done, I was exhausted.

I had a gentle afternoon, watching Nikita with Mum, and then napped on the sofa for a couple of hours. Three hours of sleep really isn’t enough. Throw in a tough therapy session and I was completely useless. I wasn’t going to make it to the end of the day without a nap.

In the evening, we had a socially distanced dinner and movie with one of my parents (she doesn’t live with us). Despite keeping up to date with the briefings and doing my own research, I’m still really confused about what the official safety guidelines are so we’re just sure to be really careful: apart from seeing each other now and then, none of us go out for anything other than the essentials, we social distance when we’re together, and we keep the space (and ourselves) as clean/hygienic as possible. It’s hard not being able to behave naturally together – having to be so conscious of the risks all of the time – but it’s so, so good to see her and hang out and have just a touch of normality, even if it is only a touch. I’ll take what I can get. Getting to see her in person is better than not getting to see her in person.

Despite my nap, I was tired and so me and Mum had a quiet evening together. Exhaustion always makes my anxiety worse so I just needed some time with her. Sometimes we joke that, rather than an emotional support animal, I have her: my emotional support person.

Always far too late (I swear I’m trying to maintain a regular sleep pattern), we fed and settled the cats before going to bed.


SATURDAY

I slept better but still not well and I woke up feeling very anxious and unsettled, usually how I feel when I’ve had nightmares but can’t quite remember them – I definitely want to write a post about how the pandemic has affected sleep and the increased number of nightmares. It was still quite early so I stayed in bed, trying to shed the feeling. The cool, grey weather helped.

Eventually I got up, fed the cats, and managed to get a few good cuddles in, which also helped. Although nothing helped as much as the Diazepam I took.

I had a quiet morning, doing some admin, some blog post writing, and a couple of video calls to family and then I spent the afternoon catching up with my diary. The one mental health problem that hasn’t been too badly affected by the pandemic and lockdown is my OCD. It’s much easier – and quicker – to write down everything that happens when so much less is happening; before lockdown, busy days could take hours and hours to write up. My ability to concentrate has been seriously compromised by my anxiety so it still takes longer than it should but at least, with emptier days, it balances out a bit.

Mum and I had dinner, continuing our rewatch of Nikita, and then I spent some time at the piano. One of the things I really wanted to use my empty semester – and I guess, now the lockdown – for was improving my musical skills and at the moment, I’m just really in love with playing the piano. I’ve definitely improved already, which is really satisfying. I practiced my current repertoire and then tried to work out a new song. But it was tricky and I was tired so I didn’t get far before giving up – for the night, not on the song in general.

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It was late but before going to bed, Mum (who used to be a full-time massage therapist, although it’s no longer her primary job) massaged my neck and right shoulder. My Trichotillomania urges have gone into overdrive since Covid-19 emerged and they’ve only gotten worse as time has passed. How I haven’t ended up with any bald spots, I have no idea. But because of my excessive pulling, my arm and shoulder have seized up and become really quite painful. The muscles actually hurt to touch but she was very gentle and I do think it helped.

We went to bed and I actually managed to get to sleep fairly quickly, which is a bit of a miracle at the moment.


SUNDAY

I managed to sleep in a bit, which was nice, although I’d still had busy dreams. It took me a while to make sense of what was the dream and what was real and when I dragged myself out of bed, I felt slow and sluggish. Fortunately the cats had been very patient about breakfast. Having said that, they were very pleased to see us (and vocal about it).

I had breakfast and a shower, leaving me with fifteen minutes or so to clear my head before my music lesson. One of my parents is a professional musician and music teacher and as another of my goals for this period of time is to improve my understanding of musical theory, I’d asked a while ago if we could spend some time on it together (well, via Zoom). So, every Sunday, we dedicate a couple of hours (sometimes more if we’re on a roll) to working out the chords to a song, figuring out the rhythms to play, etc and then discussing the theory that underpins those things in that particular song. Then I practice it in the week before our next session. It’s hard work – I’ve always found theory quite difficult to really understand – but I do think I’m getting better, if slowly. I think learning it in a practical, applied way is helping and it’s much more fun than just trying to memorise it from a book. To my amusement, it’s basically turned into an attempt to learn every Kalie Shorr song because I love her writing so much but it’s also given me a new appreciation for the songs because I’m seeing how much more to them there is. As I said, it’s difficult and I’m exhausted afterwards (probably from the effort of keeping my concentration on it – a serious job at the moment) but it feels good to be learning and trying to improve my skills.

My concentration is always pretty poor afterwards but I did manage to get some blog writing done. I’m really enjoying this style of writing at the moment; it just flows really easily. I’m also trying to get ahead of myself by a couple of posts, creating a buffer of sorts, just in case I hit a period of writers’ block. That happened a while back and suddenly writing became really difficult and stressful, not exactly something I need more of right now. So I’m taking advantage of (and enjoying) how good and effortless it feels.

Early evening, Mum and I FaceTimed with my Granny. Mum speaks with her everyday while I join in every few days (sometimes in the frame and sometimes just in the room, adding to the conversation). We do the crossword together – something we’ve always done when we’re actually together – which is really fun and catch up on each other’s days. I worry about her, her age making her more vulnerable and her being alone during lockdown. We (especially my Mum and my aunt and uncle) try and talk as much as possible and suggest new things to do and new forms of entertainment (especially when her television died and no one would go out to fix it) but I still worry.

After we hung up, I tried to set up the laptop that had finally arrived from DSA, only to find out that they’d sent me the wrong one. Fortunately, I discovered that (sadly, I’m experienced enough with the problems of getting support as a disabled person to check) before I loaded all my files onto it. So we got in contact with them (and after a lot of back and forth) and they’re sending another one to swap it with. When this process is officially over – as in I’ve got the laptop and everything is signed off on – I will write a blog post about this whole process because it has been long and complicated and stressful and I think these experiences need to be out there.

Me and Mum had dinner with more Nikita and I did some more diary writing.

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Somewhere closer to a sensible bedtime, we fed and settled the cats and went to bed.


I hope this was somewhat interesting. When I started writing it, I hadn’t counted on a heatwave that made me just this side non-functional for two days; I’d been hoping to be more productive. I know that we don’t have to be productive everyday but achieving something, even something small does help me to manage my mental health and keep my depression and anxiety from getting into a cycle that’s difficult to break out of.

Anyway, that was a week in lockdown: some routine and some different activities to mix things up. This seems to be the best approach for me. The routine is comforting but the variation keeps me from feeling like I’m in a time loop, living the same day over and over again.

I hope you’re all keeping safe and healthy in these times. I hope lockdown isn’t too traumatic for you and I’m sure you’re managing the best that you can.

365 Days of Kittens 2.0

A year ago today, we were unexpectedly blessed by two new kittens, Sooty and Sweep, also known as “the beans.” And what a year it’s been.

Last spring, my Mum and I were toying with the idea of a last round of kittens before we had our younger two cats spayed. The experience of raising kittens had always been such a positive one and we liked the idea of doing it one more time. Of the two cats, we thought Mouse would be the better choice and so we had Tiger spayed but left Mouse to wander. But a couple of months later, my mental health plummeted and the idea of getting attached to kittens only to have to let them go just felt too much so we took Mouse to the vet for the pre-spay check up. The vet was happy with that but said she could probably do with losing a little bit of weight. I did wonder if she was pregnant but the vet categorically disagreed and explained the spaying process to us again.

Less than a week later, my Mum and I came home from a family dinner to find Mouse pacing on the doormat just inside the front door. As soon as she saw us, she started yowling and headed upstairs, pausing every few steps to make sure I was following. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure but it was exactly the same behaviour that Lucy had displayed when she had her two litters of kittens. So I followed Mouse up to my room where she curled up in the cat bed and within a couple of hours, our two little black furballs were born. Girls was my guess and I was right.

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So that was a bit of a shock.

But, of course, they were gorgeous and I was immediately in love. Unfortunately, Mouse wasn’t the natural mother that Lucy had been to her and her sister. She’d curl around them, feed them, and clean them, but then she’d get up and leave them for fairly considerable periods of time. And since kittens can’t regulate their own body temperatures, I was worried, even though it was summer and the weather was very warm. So we had to take somewhat drastic measures: I set up camp on the floor next to the cat bed and every time Mouse went to leave, I turned her around and nudged her back inside. Most of the time, she simply climbed back in and curled up with them; it was like she just didn’t know that that was what she was supposed to do but with a bit of encouragement, she started to get the idea. I stayed there for two weeks until I was confident that she didn’t need my direction although I didn’t stray far, just in case.

To make matters more complicated, we were in the middle of a heatwave and I was worried about them all overheating (we even ended up at the emergency vet at one point). Mouse – a very fluffy cat – did have to leave from time to time, just to stretch out and cool down, although she had by that point gotten the hang of things and didn’t leave the kittens for long. I struggle with the heat and so we’d just bought a pretty expensive fan but we ended up mostly using it to keep the general room temperature down. It was a stressful balancing act.

The arrival of the kittens also changed the general cat dynamic in the house, as well as my relationship with them. The living room (where we’d moved the bed with the kittens – it was easier to manage the temperature in there and still allowed me to work while I kept vigil) had always been the central hub of the house, where we all – cats included – hung out. But suddenly Lucy and Tiger were nowhere to be found and since I was on kitten watch, I barely saw them. That was quite upsetting as I was used to Lucy always sticking close and Tiger constantly climbing all over me. I missed them. I just had to hope that things would return to normal once the kittens went to their new home (the plan my Mum and I had discussed and felt comfortable with, especially if they could go to the same home).

Then Mouse started trying to move the kittens out of the bed, into different corners of the living room. It would have been cute if she didn’t keep trying to stash them in potentially problematic hidey-holes: amongst the wires behind the TV, behind the sofa… She even got one of them half way down the stairs a couple of times. That wasn’t exactly ideal. In the end, we managed to compromise – yes, I was compromising with my cat… I built her a new nest under the TV, carefully covering all of the wires with a blanket and then another in the crate we still had from the last litter.

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The best part of having kittens is when they open their eyes and started stumbling around, exploring and playing clumsily. They’re so in the moment, all of their focus on what they’re doing. It’s so mindful and so calming to watch. And their innocence is just good for the soul. There’s something magical about knowing that you’re giving these open, trusting little creatures the best possible start in life, giving them as much love and attention and care as you can.

While I do kind of love the idea of having a big litter of kittens running around, there’s something really special about just having two. They were partners in crime, always  snuggled up together, playing together, or getting into trouble together. They were constantly getting stuck in ridiculous places, no doubt due to their boundless curiosity. There was one particularly memorable incident where I scraped up my arm, forcing it behind the bookshelf to retrieve one of them when she got trapped behind it. How she got behind it in the first place I have no idea. Safely rescued, she shook herself off and was off playing with her sister, no worse for wear.

We did end up naming them, for ourselves at least. It wasn’t like we could refer to them by colour since they were both ‘the black one.’ So they became Sooty and Sweep (I’d always wanted to do matching names – even if it was just going to be for a little while and just for me), Sweep being the fluffier of the two. Due to their birth order, it should really be Sweep and Sooty but oh well. You can’t win ’em all.

(In the second photo, they’re watching the TV.)

Mouse has slowly become a really good mother and to this day (spoiler alert: we kept them, as the title suggests), she’s still very close to them, especially Sweep. We often find the two of them cleaning each other or curled up together. It’s very cute. She’s close to Sooty too but more often than not, Sooty snuggles up with me. They’re both very people friendly cats, inquisitive about new people, obliging when we want affection, and downright cuddly when they want affection. They have really lovely characters, both of them.

Lucy and Tiger eventually stopped avoiding them, curiously checking them out. Sooty and Sweep were very enthusiastic, always wanting to play or snuggle. The older cats were more reserved but after a while, they formed a little pack: we call them our pride of cats. Now they eat together, play together, and contently share the cat tree.

Lucy and Tiger also returned to their normal behaviour. Lucy spends her days stretched out on what she considers ‘her’ chair, hanging out with me while I work or write or practice, and Tiger, while fairly independent, comes to lie on me every day, sometimes multiple times. That always makes me really smile-y; I’d missed that.

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They weren’t quite old enough to go to new homes when my mental health suddenly plummeted, my depression dropping to new gut-wrenching levels and my anxiety through the roof: sometimes it was so bad that I could barely speak. And in the middle of that, I started my Masters and started the release cycle of my first EP, both of which were incredibly stressful. But the kittens helped in a way nothing else did or could, their mindful behaviour very soothing.

As I said, we hadn’t intended to keep them but with the stress I was under, Mum was happy to leave the process of finding them a new home until I felt a bit more settled and emotionally stable. But I continued to struggle – having meltdowns almost everyday, leaving me physically and emotionally drained – and it turned into a landmine of its own. The thought of them going was physically painful and I couldn’t bear to bring up the subject, knowing that the conversation would just cause yet another meltdown. And with the amount I was having, I was desperate to avoid actively causing them.

Weeks after they originally would’ve gone, me and Mum had had a few brief conversations about the situation and how difficult and overwhelming I was finding it (on top of everything else) and we realised that, somehow, the decision had made itself. We were keeping them. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed with relief and Mum held me until I was all cried out. I was exhausted but a weight had been lifted and during this awful period where everything felt wrong, something finally felt right. I don’t think either of us have regretted it for a moment (well, except maybe when it seemed to take Sooty forever to transition from using the litter box to the garden).

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I’ve loved every second with our pride of cats but they’ve truly been a life saver during this pandemic, one of the very few things that have helped with my mental health, helped calm (or at least manage) my overwhelming fears; cuddling or stroking them, even just watching them, can pull me out of an anxiety spiral. They’re completely unaware of the pandemic, of the bigger picture, and when I get lost in my panic, watching them exist in their own little world – waiting for their next meal, chasing bugs in the garden, stretching out on the cat tree, or demanding my attention – helps me rein in all the ‘what if’s and reestablish a sense of perspective. As much as possible anyway.

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And now they’re a year old. I kind of can’t believe it. Somehow it’s simultaneously flown by and been the longest year of my life. But as I said, I’ve loved every moment with them. My family of cats is one of the most precious things to me and the addition of Sooty and Sweep has been a true, if unexpected, gift.

(One second a day of Sooty and Sweep’s first year.)