My point is, this post concerns the difficulties I’m facing
as a person with multiple illnesses, mental and physical, and whilst I can be
transparent about the implications of my quarantine experience, I stand by my
decision to isolate and urge others to do the same. It’s the only feasible way
to truly limit the spread of Covid-19, and I refuse to participate in the
selfish antics of those who are actively evading isolation for entertainment. I am also perfectly valid in
expressing my difficulties during these times and I affirm that my mental
health is as important as my physical health. I also acknowledge that staying
in isolation is me doing my part to keep others safe. Solidarity to those who are in isolation and struggling immensely, like myself. Solidarity to those who can't isolate due to working for survival, especially those in healthcare and sex work. Solidarity to the homeless and to LGBTQ+ people who are in unsafe spaces, yet in quarantine.
I currently have a migraine brewing. They’ve been coming and
going in such quick bursts for some time, I suspect these are cluster headaches.
Whatever they are, they’re dictating much of my day-to-day existence, and so I’ve
achieved nothing spectacular as a result. I have a dissertation and three
essays to write, totally 27,000 words, but I haven’t even thought about
starting. Well, I have, multiple times, but I can’t bring myself to do
anything. That’s been much of my life within the last few years: wanting to do
something, worrying about it constantly, and never doing it. Or doing a poor
job of it. I haven’t had the motivation to write for the blog either, as you
can probably tell by my inactivity, but Aleha suggested this post would be best
written by me. An experience of quarantine, living with mental illness, and
some ideas as to how one could get through it.
I’ve started taking my vitamins regularly again. I’d stopped
a long time ago, simply collecting the prescriptions and leaving them to sit in
my room. Bottles of various vitamins my Dad would buy for me also collected dust
alongside them. I can never give him a straight reason when he asks why I don’t
take them. I don’t have a fear of pills or medicine, but rather a fear of taking
vitamins themselves. It’s not even the fact that I struggle to swallow all
those pills, saving the discomfort for my daily anti-depressants and
painkillers; it’s just that I can’t bring myself to take them. I don’t deserve
the supplements; my body should simply continue to decay and wither, I think. A
lot of self-sabotage and self-hate goes into this, stemming from my ED. I won’t
go into this any further right now, but I wanted to point out to myself that I
really ought to take them, given that my joints and bones are hurting
significantly more than usual, my intake is bullshit, and I’m not getting any
natural sunlight. I’m hoping it pays off, and that my pain eases. My mind is
constantly in a fog and I’m tired of having to exist, to think, to live. Maybe
my physical pains will ease, though.
The quarantine period has been suffocating and miserable so
far. I’m suicidal, depressed and anxious. My anger rises easily, and I’m easily
provoked, given that I have BPD. I’ve had minor quarrels with my family
already, with some bloodshed, but I’ve been trying to keep calm and busy. The
issue with staying busy is that I don’t actually want to do anything other than
die. I don’t have that as a viable option though, so that’s out the window. The
next best thing after death? Sleep. I’ve always been a heavy sleeper and never
an early-riser (unless forced, because of commitments), but lately my sleep schedule
has been significantly more shitty than usual. I have to nap during the day
because of chronic lethargy and drowsiness, as well as the need to sleep away
my existence, so I don’t have to deal with my thoughts and issues. I’ll wake up
late, laze through a couple of hours, then nap. It’s almost impossible for me
to stay away long enough, unless I want a migraine. Sometimes I’ll nap a few times
during the day, or just the once (for six fucking hours) and then I’ll be awake
until midnight or just after. Lately, though, with the constant panic and
anxiety, I’ve struggled to fall asleep quickly enough. Laying awake for hours
with a restless body and aching head is shit. Waking up from a half-assed sleep,
only to return back to bed soon after, is shit. My days mostly consist of rest,
in case you haven’t caught on. Whilst overdoing it can certainly increase my
fatigue, I’m naturally someone who needs a lot of sleep.
I finally got back to doing something I’d abandoned long ago
– painting. It’s nothing special, as I don’t have the incredible skills I’ve
seen elsewhere, but it’s kept me occupied at the very least. I tend to abandon
anything in my life very suddenly, particularly activities and hobbies, and
painting was one of the things on the brink of being tossed out. I lose
interest very quickly, and as a perfectionist hate to create anything less than
perfect, so I end up creating nothing. I made myself order another paint-by-number
kit though (with an unfinished one left to sit, seeing as the paint has dried)
and I’m actually rather content with the progress I’ve made so far. The few paintings
I’ve done before, I typically finished them within a week or two, but then one
ended up incomplete and unusable. They’re oil paintings, and as far as I know,
I can’t revive the paint that has dried up. They were in air-tight pots, but
months had gone by since I last touched them. A few weeks before the rise of
Covid-19, I decided to order another kit, a simple looking piece, and again I
was close to abandoning it soon after starting. I can never stick to a hobby or
activity and it drives me mad. I don’t have money to be wasting and it doesn’t
help my hoarding problem either, as I refuse to bin what I don’t use. Being in
isolation, though, has been the perfect time to focus on an activity that
requires minimal thinking. It’s a paint-by-number, after all, in which you
paint a section according to the number and colour its assigned. This piece is
a beach scene; hopefully I’ll post a picture on our Instagram page when I’m
done with it. It’s difficult to be precise with it, which really gets to me, as
I want things done perfectly, but it’s not a shitshow so far at least.
Without the chance to go out, even if it’s just for classes,
and being a constant sleeper, you can imagine I wouldn’t move about much.
Sometimes I have days where I won’t breach even three hundred steps; it sounds
terrible and I feel terrible about it, as I’m entirely lazy. I’ll be in pain,
or very depressed, sleeping the entire day away; when I say I don’t move, I
genuinely don’t move. It’s unhealthy, I’m fully aware, but incorporating
a routine into my life has been something I find difficult to achieve. During isolation,
I imagined it would be hard, and it has been. I’ve had those days where I do
absolutely nothing but sleep. It’s dull, makes me more anxious and suicidal,
and makes me number. I knew I would be in bad shape if I kept this up though.
For once, I’ve actually been itching to get outside. Just to walk. I’ve always
loved going on long walks, and I’d walk as much as I could on a day I had
classes. Experiencing nature in particular has always been calming, especially the
trails and little forests I’d go to. Without that freedom and fresh air, I feel
even more lethargic than usual. The most obvious thing would be to at least sit
in the garden for a bit, I suppose, and I’ll probably start doing that soon. I
need some fresh air. I feel like I’m physically suffocating throughout this. I’m
having constant migraines, feeling more nauseous and more low. Again, I’ve
adapted to it, although it’s a struggle to keep this up. A lot of people have
been posting about home workouts they’ve been trying, and I wish I could get
involved in a structured sort of workout routine. That isn’t in my vicinity at
the moment and I know pushing myself too far, too fast, will just lead to going
nowhere, so I’ve been doing the bare minimum, if you will: going on the
treadmill for 30-60 minutes a day. So far I’ve missed one day out. Today, I
feel especially nauseated and in pain, but I still managed half an hour, so I’m
content. Again, related to my ED, I don’t have a healthy relationship with exercise,
so I have to be careful about how much I’m doing, and try not to entertain
urges to destroy myself in the process.
A lot of things are going on even though this is a time of
nothingness for many. My Dad, one of the many NHS workers currently working
through this pandemic, is the only one in my family to be leaving the work at
the moment. I worry for his health and safety during this time. My best friend,
also in the NHS, had been working for some time; she’s finally been allowed to
work from home, although she’s currently unwell. As an NHS worker, you’re
particularly vulnerable to Covid-19. I worry for these people in my life, and
others, having to risk their own health for the sake of others. The debate as
to who should work and whether they ‘signed
up for it’ based on their profession is about; I don’t want to get into it
right now. My mind in hazy. All I know is that I’m doing my part to keep others
safe, and I hope you will too.
I feel incredibly unwell right now, in terms of my mental
state. I’m in a bad place and I have limited access to support. The worry of
how long this will last and if I’ll even be able to keep myself going gnaws at
me. When you live a life revolving around your mental illnesses, routine
becomes a stable part of it. Having the routine of classes and whatnot kept me
afloat, and without that, I feel lost and out of control. These times are also
difficult for those facing unemployment, or returning to unsafe spaces, or
risking their lives to keep others safe. Everyone is fighting in their own way.
‘Unprecedented times’ would be a bit of
an understatement for this experience. It feels so far-fetched to be living through
it, seeing everything through a screen. It’s bizarre. Disassociation is rife
for me. I’m not doing anything that’s exceptional right now; as explained, I
struggle with the basics of self-care and life in general, so getting something
like a bit of painting or walking done feels big in itself. My pain is exacerbated during this time and I feel emotionally heightened. Everything is too much and too little, all at once. Without a sense of structure to my day, I feel out of place. I had very little structure in the first place, but now it's next to nothing. The impact and threat of isolation has been fucking intense. I don't even have any weed, and that makes me quite nervous, as it makes me turn to vodka instead. I have so many triggers surrounding me in a literal sense and it's taking so much out of me to not give up right now. I've always felt used to the chronic disconnection I have to the outside world, but this is very much so not by choice at the moment and to an extreme.
Achieve what you’re able to achieve, and you’re good to go. This doesn’t necessarily have to be the most productive time of your life. For once, where possible, we ought to focus on genuine mental self-care and regeneration. The practicalities of life have always been too fast, too worrisome, too much. Letting yourself step back is acceptable. Taking a break is acceptable.
Achieve what you’re able to achieve, and you’re good to go. This doesn’t necessarily have to be the most productive time of your life. For once, where possible, we ought to focus on genuine mental self-care and regeneration. The practicalities of life have always been too fast, too worrisome, too much. Letting yourself step back is acceptable. Taking a break is acceptable.
I urge you to stay in isolation as much as possible. At the very least, social distancing is key. I suggest
you create a routine, which includes exercise and recreation, where possible. I
also suggest you stay in contact with friends and family, especially if your
mental health is of concern to you right now.
Offer your support to those of us in need. Chronically ill people like myself often go through long periods of isolation, without people checking in or offering care; there's no real sense of emergency with us, if you will. Don't let people suffer alone. People don't realise that sick and disabled people, including those with invisible illnesses, are still having to manage their own symptoms and issues - this is on top of the vulnerability of contracting Covid-19. We have symptoms that we will never be free of and will have to live with, as we need support for this in itself.
Offer your support to those of us in need. Chronically ill people like myself often go through long periods of isolation, without people checking in or offering care; there's no real sense of emergency with us, if you will. Don't let people suffer alone. People don't realise that sick and disabled people, including those with invisible illnesses, are still having to manage their own symptoms and issues - this is on top of the vulnerability of contracting Covid-19. We have symptoms that we will never be free of and will have to live with, as we need support for this in itself.
- Zack
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