Posted on May 9, 2020
When I’m not spiralling into an anxiety-induced meltdown over the pandemic, the resulting quarantine, and (particularly) the thought of a loved one getting sick, I can look at living in lockdown in a somewhat detached, practical sense (something that has taken over a month to be able to do). Intellectually speaking, we’re living in unprecedented times, experiencing something that our parents are experiencing with us for the first time – something that very rarely occurs. There are very few people alive who have witnessed the last pandemic of this scale: the Spanish Influenza in 1918. So this is a big deal, one that will be written about in history books and studied in the future – from political, sociological, and psychological points of view to name just a few. I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently and I can’t help thinking how often history is told from the point of view of the powerful and how terribly, appallingly wrong that is, especially given the number of mistakes being made by the people in power during this period (I’m speaking from the UK but I think we’re all aware of the mistakes being made by other governments, especially that of the US). So, if we want that to change, we have to write it ourselves, write our own experiences of living in lockdown, both for the history books but also for our own sake, so that we don’t forget what this experience has been like and how our lives have been changed by it. And as true as it is that we’re all in the same position – all in lockdown with limited access to our families and friends, the world outside, and our ‘normal lives’ – each of us will be experiencing this differently so I think the more experiences written about the better. So here I am, writing about mine, both for the reasons I’ve already listed but also to keep from drowning in it all, in the anxiety and the fear and the attempt to keep going as if this isn’t a traumatic experience.
I was aware of the Coronavirus before it even moved out of China but it felt like such a horror movie scenario and caused me such anxiety that I worked really hard not to think about it too much. It seemed unlikely that it would get all the way to the UK so I focussed on the anxieties in front of me and got on with my life. Besides, surely the government would be prepared should it reach us, given how much warning they had. I didn’t vote for this government nor do I trust them but I assumed that their egocentric motivations would have them preparing the country as best they could, for themselves if not for their people.
But then the virus started to move from country to country and more and more people in the UK began to take the idea that it might reach us seriously. I battled with my anxiety around it, trying to act responsibly without thinking so hard about it that it sent me into anxiety induced meltdowns. To an extent, I felt fairly unafraid of getting the virus as a young, physically healthy person but having said that, I was very aware that I was in regular contact with immunocompromised people and I was terrified of getting it and passing it on to them. So I was careful to wash my hands, use hand sanitiser, and avoid busy areas and travel times where possible. My anxiety had already been high before the virus made the news so it was a daily battle, as it often is.
Then everything seemed to happen at once. One day I was making plans with a friend for later in the week and the next she was on a plane back to her home country because of the travel ban. I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye (that’s my little bit of self-pity done because I know, without a doubt, that she made the right choice and I absolutely support her decision). Before that week of classes began, our course came together (electronically) and decided that we didn’t feel it was safe for us or others if we were travelling to and from uni, etc, so suddenly my weekly routine was gone, my education disrupted, and my friends were all going home, again without any of us actually getting to say goodbye to each other. I know we can all talk via social media and video calls and that this isn’t forever but depending how long this goes on, we may never come together as a course again and that is an idea I find really difficult to get my head around emotionally.
I think it was the next week that we went into official lockdown. My university pulled out all the stops to support us and within days, our classes had been moved online but prerecorded lectures and a forum aren’t the easiest ways to have discussions and a sudden lack of access to the library and facilities wasn’t an easy adjustment. I found the online classes difficult. Don’t get me wrong – I really appreciate how hard they worked to keep our education up to date and as normal as possible – but it’s not the way I learn best. It’s just a personal thing. It also made working on the assessment essay much more challenging. Fortunately, I had a tutor who was incredibly supportive and with his help (and my Mum’s), I managed to get it in with good time, despite the added stress and the impact that had.
The essay, despite the anxiety it caused me, was actually a good distraction. As soon as it was done and submitted, I really started to feel the effects of being in lockdown. After all, up until then, I was pretty much doing what I would’ve been doing anyway: spending all my time on my assignment. But with that done, it all started to sink in.
The most obvious struggle is that I miss and worry about my family. I have four parents, only one of which I’m living with, and the others are all on their own; my brother is living by himself in London; my Mum’s Mum is also living by herself, a significant distance from any of us, even if we were allowed to visit each other (I’m thinking more in the case of an emergency where we would obviously keep our distance from each other and be very careful); and I have multiple family members categorised as vulnerable. So I have a lot of people to worry about and worry about them I do. The constant anxiety is exhausting. And as grateful as I am for video calls, it’s just not the same. I miss BEING with them. I desperately miss HUGGING them. I try not to dwell on it – or stress about how much longer we’ll be separated – because that is only more damaging to my mental health but it’s hard. It’s really hard.
On a similar note, I also really miss my friends. We have video calls, regular calls, texting, social media, movie dates on platforms like Netflix Party, and so on but again, it’s not the same. It’s not the same as hanging out with them, or hugging them, or going on coffee dates, or having writing sessions. As I’ve already said, I’m trying not to think about how long it could be before I see them again. We’ll manage, thanks to the technology we have, but it will be really wonderful to see them again.
The other thing that I’m really struggling with right now is my mental health. For those of you who know me or have followed this blog for a while, you’ll know that, amongst other things, I struggle daily with anxiety and depression. These are the particular problems that have only gotten worse since the appearance of Covid-19 and the lockdown.
I’ve still been having therapy, but via Zoom instead of in person. In theory, it shouldn’t be that different but somehow it is. I’d never really considered how important it is to have a space to work through all the hard stuff and then be able to walk away from it, which you just can’t do when you’re having therapy in your living room. Plus, Zoom calls are exhausting – here’s a good article about that – which only adds to how exhausting therapy can be. Then, when it comes to the content of a session, it all feels a bit frozen: it’s hard to tackle difficult emotions when we’re in the middle of different difficult emotions. And when I’m just about coping, feeling so fragile, I don’t want to trigger something and make life even more emotionally difficult for myself than it is already. So the whole thing is really tricky and confusing. Having sessions is definitely better than not having them but it’s not straightforward. It’s not as easy as I thought it would be when we made the plan just before lockdown.
And just to add to that, I’ve been struggling with sleepiness as a side effect of my medication for months but that’s gotten a lot worse since self isolating (perhaps from the increased anxiety – I don’t know). I’m exhausted by the smallest things and I seem to need so much more sleep. And that hasn’t been helped by a sudden, intense bout of hay fever, which has bestowed upon me the additional symptoms of an itchy, blocked nose and sore, itchy eyes. It’s been so bad that even having the windows open makes it dramatically worse so going outside definitely hasn’t been an option (I can’t take antihistamines because of my other medication). So I can’t even go in the garden, making me feel all the more trapped. Inhaling steam helps but only for short periods of time. The recent rain has been a blessing, giving me several days of relief. I’m cautiously hopeful that it’s started to settle – I’ve managed a couple of trips into the garden without incident – but I don’t want to speak too soon.
And lastly, for now at least, I’m really struggling with how uncertain everything is, uncertainty having always been something that causes me anxiety. We don’t know when the lockdown will end, we don’t know when we’ll be safe again, we don’t know when we’re going to see our friends and family again. I don’t know what’s going to happen in terms of my university course. And so on and so on and so on. So on top of the ongoing fear, there’s nothing solid to hold onto. Many of my summer plans have become impossible or at least difficult, while some have been cancelled outright, which has obviously been very upsetting and left me without anything to look forward to or anchor me. I feel very lost. I’m sure that’s true for a lot of people at the moment. I try to focus on each day as it comes but it’s hard. We’re all so used to looking and planning ahead.
One more thing… I found this on Twitter the other day and wanted to share it:
Let me be clear (a thread):
Those "all over the place" feelings you've been having? They are symptoms of stress, NOT personal failures of yours.
Do you feel FLAKEY + INCONSISTENT? That's b/c your brain doesn't know what news to brace for next, or what next month will hold.
— Alexis Rockley (@alexisrockley) April 14, 2020
Feeling CREATIVELY BLOCKED? That's because your brain has temporarily diverted all its creativity (aka ability to solve novel problems) to "how do I avoid dying?" while in a narrowed, slow burn, fight-or-flight state.
— Alexis Rockley (@alexisrockley) April 14, 2020
Your plans, creativity, energy, focus + motivation are on a YO-YO right now, b/c your brain believes you need to be EXTREMELY ADAPTIVE.
You will not be on this rollercoaster forever. Be patient with your brain.
a positive psychology-certified coach + fellow human
— Alexis Rockley (@alexisrockley) April 14, 2020
I found it really helpful to have various explanations as to why I’m struggling, to know that my brain isn’t actually broken. Of course, knowing this stuff doesn’t actually fix the problems but being able to take a breath and reassure myself that there is a reason and that it won’t last forever has been helpful.
I hope you’re all safe and coping the best you can. And if you’re in the UK and they do loosen the lockdown this coming week, please continue to be careful. I hate being in lockdown but I’m absolutely terrified of what will happen if the government relax the rules, of how many more people will get sick and die. I’m scared out of my mind that someone I love will catch it. I can only speak for myself but I’m sure I’m not the only one with such fears. So please, please be careful. For all of us.
Category: anxiety, covid-19 pandemic, death, depression, emotions, medication, meltdowns, mental health, music, sleep, therapy, university Tagged: anxiety, assessment, collaboration, concentration, coronavirus, covid-19, cowriting, depression, drowsiness, emotions, essay, exhaustion, family, fatigue, focus, friends, hay fever, history, lockdown, masters degree, masters degree in songwriting, mental health, mental illness, netflix, netflix party, online classes, pandemic, planning, plans, quarantine, self isolating, sleepiness, social history, songwriting, summer, technology, therapy, travel ban, trigger, twitter, uncertainty, university, video calls, writers block, writing session, zoom, zoom calls
Posted on January 1, 2020
In January, I was inspired to try the 19 for 2019 challenge, setting myself nineteen goals to achieve by the end of the year. They didn’t have to be massive goals; they could be one off things to simply try. I was inspired so I came up with nineteen things and gave it a go. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware of what a hell of a year I was about to experience.
So it’s a pretty mixed bag and considering the year I had, I’m surprised I managed any of them at all. I’ve struggled throughout the year, especially recently, with how little I’m achieving and the frustration and anger and guilt that comes with that, that comes with living with mental health problems and a developmental disability. I’m trying to focus on the fact that, where I could, I tried. I tried to do as many of these things as possible.
Overall, an interesting challenge but I think I’ll try something different for 2020. I haven’t found the right kind of goal system yet so I’m just gonna have to keep looking and keep trying.
Category: about me, anxiety, autism, book, depression, emotions, food, medication, mental health, music, trichotillomania, university, writing Tagged: 19 for 2019, 19 for 2019 review, 2019, 2020, alcohol, anxiety, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, blood donation, bone marrow register, book, books, chronic fatigue, chronic fatigue clinic, chronic fatigue syndrome, coffee, depression, fatigue, fawm, february album writing month, goals, guitar, hair pulling, invisible braces, mental health, mental illness, meteor, meteor shower, napowrimo, national poetry writing month, new year, new years resolutions, photo album, photo albums, piano, poetry, reading, resolutions, rock climbing, songwriting, swimming, tattoo, tea, trich, trichotillomania
Posted on June 15, 2019
Several months ago, I had some blood tests done and they revealed that I was incredibly low in iron. Since I’ve had some pretty unpleasant experiences with supplements, my doctor recommended an infusion and set it up straight away at the local hospital. I was really impressed by the efficiency of it all: the speed at which the problem was identified and the treatment arranged. That was the last we saw of that.
The actual hospital visit for the infusion took six hours. All was going smoothly: they’d taken my blood just to double check the iron levels but then we saw no sign of the doctor for over an hour. When someone eventually appeared, they told us that somehow they’d managed to test for everything but iron and were having to run the tests again. It took so long that I fell asleep in the chair.
Hours later, they finally had the infusion in. It was cold and made me feel kind of sick. It was a bit like when you get a general anaesthetic, if you’ve ever had one of those. But it was okay. It only lasted about fifteen minutes and then I had to stay for half an hour to make sure there weren’t any negative interactions. But then it was all over and I could go home. I thought I’d keep notes on how I reacted in case it would be useful to anyone else.
I slept very late everyday (sometimes into the afternoon when I’m usually up around eight) and still struggled to get up. Despite all the sleep, I could still nap in the day and would start dozing off around ten. I had absolutely no energy. I tried to continue my routine of getting up early to swim but I could barely drag myself downstairs (or even out of bed); I couldn’t stand up long enough to shower and had to wash my hair in the bath, which I absolutely hate doing. I was very shaky and felt just generally unwell.
At the beginning of the week, I also reduced two of my medications, Clomipramine and Flupentixol, as I’d previously planned with my Psychiatrist. The infusion came about so quickly that the plans collided with no time to adjust. I also went down with a migraine during the week so it’s hard to tell what caused what and how each thing affects the others.
Slowly, I started to wake up at my normal time again but I was still very tired and sleepy. Doing anything was a struggle but by the end of the week, I started to feel a bit better and a bit more like myself pre-infusion. I also started to feel like myself pre-Flupentixol: I had my first shower standing up in weeks and I walked around London without feeling like I was going to faint. It felt a bit like a fog was lifting.
The week began with my first shower standing up and I was positively giddy about it. I had to lie down afterwards but it was amazing to be able to do something again that had been taken away. I was still physically exhausted but I no longer felt like I was going to faint if I stood up for too long.
Mentally and emotionally, I felt like I was declining. I felt depressed and restless; I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I did spend the second half of the week sick, feeling nauseous with a cold and sore throat. I don’t know whether that’s related to the infusion or the changing medications or whether it was a coincidence. Either way, I spent several days in bed feeling miserable.
At the beginning of the fourth week, I reduced the Clomipramine again. I wish all of these things could’ve happened separately from each other so the effects could be clearly identified by unfortunately, that just wasn’t in the cards this time. The reduction of the Clomipramine, an antidepressant, no doubt had a real impact on my mood. I felt overwhelmed by feelings of depression and hopelessness and I just didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t settle or concentrate so it was hard to distract myself from these feelings. My anxiety also increased, which was an added struggle.
Energy wise, I felt back to my ‘normal’ levels of tiredness: I couldn’t – can’t – stand or walk for very long, big events and big emotions require several days of recovery, I need a lot of sleep. But I’m a lot better. I’m swimming again and going up to London has been easier. So on that front, there has been improvement.
Everything has been fairly consistent since then and eight weeks after the infusion, I went back for a blood test to see if the infusion worked. The results were certainly interesting: by my maths, my iron levels have gone up 4000%. So, for the moment at least, it seems to have worked. In the medical sense anyway – I’m not seeing as much of an improvement as I would’ve hoped, energy wise. I’d hoped that this might explain the ongoing trouble I have with fatigue but if this is up to normal levels and I’m still struggling as much as I am, then it’s not the answer, or not the whole answer.
It’s not the end of the road. In three months, I’ll be going back for another blood test, this time to find out whether my body is holding onto and processing the iron properly. So that may yield more answers, more information. From there, I’m not sure what happens but it’s not the only route we’re pursuing. There’s got to be an answer and I’m not giving up yet.
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder, as well as several mental health issues. I’m a singersongwriter so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is now available on iTunes and Spotify, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My second single, ‘Bad Night,’ is also now available on all platforms and is the first track from my new EP, ‘Honest.’