We’ve all had a lot to come to terms with recently but we’ll get through it together.
Those who have suffered from a broken heart will be all too familiar with the symptoms. More often than not, a broken heart comes with an overwhelming feeling of loneliness, a fear of the future and a knot of uncertainty that sits in the back of your throat. Scenes may replay in your head as you lie awake at night asking yourself where it all went wrong, as you try to come to terms with the new life you will have to lead.
You may have recently experienced these symptoms even if you haven’t parted ways with a significant other, as effectively, we’ve all broken up with society - and coronavirus is the ‘other woman’.
Being dumped is a horrible feeling but just like any toxic relationship, we can find solace in knowing that these feelings will come to an end, and this time, we’re in it together. In fact, love gurus say that there are seven stages of a break-up, so buckle up.
1 Answers.
Amidst of our lives being flipped upside down, many of us became desperate. Constantly checking the news for updates, listening to Boris’s speeches like religious daily rituals, and packing our trolleys with so much loo roll we could recreate a toilet paper ark (not that any countries would accept us if we were to set sail). We needed guidance through this mystical, dystopian land - and who can blame us?
2 Denial.
Turns out, this whole coronavirus was just a sick joke – Glastonbury will still go ahead, our holiday countdown can restart, and we can all go back to running on the treadmill instead of the beautiful parks around us. Any minute now...
3 Bargaining.
Social distancing was a totally logical request to help fight this invisible killer – as long as it didn’t interrupt Friday night at the pub or Mum’s Sunday roast. This phase may have hit a week or so into lockdown when you made that utterly degrading call begging to visit a friend or family member. Maybe you disguised it as a well-intended offer to buy shopping? In fact, one of my friends pretended that his car had broken down outside my flat just for a cuppa and a catch up – now that’s low.
4 Relapse.
No one wants to see you and you have nowhere to go. You’re left with two options: chocolate or alcohol. I’m not too proud to admit that even I took a desperate trip to the supermarket to stock up on beers, gin and wine and made sure that I had enough sugar last me, just in case I decided to live on my loo-roll arc.
5 Anger.
Gently rocking from side to side with eyes twitching as you peer through the living room window, you can see old ladies (clearly from separate households) or young kids on bikes enjoying the sunshine. What do they not understand about S-O-C-I-A-L D-I-S-T-A-N-C-I-N-G?
6 Acceptance.
Normality has left the building. For better or worse, we’re slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that time will now be divided into two states: BC (before corona) and AD (after destruction).
7 Hope.
Sure, cabin fever has struck, our in-laws are driving us insane, and even the cat is longing for us to get back to work. But for now, all we can do is be grateful for what we have and do our best to help the elderly and vulnerable around us. Everyone is in the same boat (even if it is made out of loo roll), and the only way we can get through this devastating period is my pulling together, staying at home, and looking after each other.
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