Apocalypse (noun) : An event which results in great destruction and world changing consequences.
If you didn’t learn that we are, if you are reading this, living through an apocalypse right at this very moment, what have you been doing with yourself?? The coronavirus pandemic has resulted in great damage and has been a world changing event, how many of those changes will ultimately prove to be permanent remains to be seen. I’m dubious because I live in England, where the government has decided that, now most of us are vaccinated, it’s all good and our infection rates are soaring. Life is basically back to normal, apart from the odd bout of self isolation and the occasional company which has decided that office space is too expensive, except for the fact that as many people are dying of coronavirus now as back in March, when we were locked down.
Some apocalypses last forever though. The little apocalypses that change our own little worlds in dramatic ways. We live through many of these in our lives without thinking about true momentousness of it all. Maybe, if we thought about these events as our own little apocalypses, we would give ourselves a little more compassion. A heartbreak, a death, a marriage, a birth, a house move: all these things have world changing consequences for our own little selves.
Viewed in this light, I have lived through no fewer than eight apocalypses in the last six years and that’s without including coronavirus. Five of them in the space of less than twelve months in the year my son was born. Looked at from this perspective, maybe it’s okay that I find myself feeling tired and unmotivated. My children are both now in school and I have my life stretching out ahead of me, a midlife crisis to contend with and a desperate need to push myself into creation rather than stagnation but I all I really want to do is lie down and read a book. I want to wrap myself up in cotton wool. I want someone to look after me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I’m so dog tired. But life doesn’t stop. It just keeps coming. The big dramas and the small dramas. The relentless monotony of housework (sorry, if you enjoy it, I totally envy you, I hate that sh*t). I feel like I’ve picked myself up a hundred times, and I will do it a hundred times more, but I am so dog tired.
Mental health disorders are on the increase at the moment and I’ve talked, before, about our duty to ourselves to find ways to be happy, even if it’s just in small pleasures, because life just hasn’t been kind to anyone lately. I sit here at my keyboard, wondering how many people out there are feeling the exact same thing. How many people out there just want to stop? It’s ironic that that’s what we thought that the first lockdown would be. A stop and reset. Looking back it seems so naive.
Not the most amusing of blogs this time and I will write on my report card, ‘must try harder’ and aim to come back next time with something witty. In the mean time, take care of yourself, the dusting can wait, it’s okay if the floor needs hoovering. Get in the bath with the kids if you can’t have one alone. Call a friend if alone is what it feels like you always are. Rest if you need to. And, if you need someone to tell you, everything IS going to be okay. I promise.