I have been fighting back the tears all day. Sat on the bus this morning with stray ones leaking out, thinking this is the last day I will be going to work for the forseeable. Bus journeys are hardly a highlight, but for me it is the one time of the day I am not at work or with 2 non-napping toddler dc. Henceforth, these two activities will be co-existing around my kitchen table.
All the little disappointments. My girl's first invitation to a special friend's birthday party. I had booked a special activity for my days off to take them to, we only did one session and they've been talking about going back ever since. All the friends and family we're now not allowed to spend time with. Our lovely childminder, whose business may well not survive this. It was, more than likely, their last day today. How do you explain that to such little ones? And those are just mine. I'm just as upset by everyone elses on this thread and elsewhere. It's heartbreaking.
The platitudes are not helping me - look on the bright side, keep on keeping on, count blessings etc etc. Objectively I recognise that we are lucky compared to many, but that doesn't stop the awful feelings of dread that loom around me. I am not strong enough to do the things that are required of me, and most certainly not to do them in a good humour. I recognise that I am becoming increasingly difficult to live with but feel powerless to do anything about it.
My prediction, for what it's worth (and my predictions have all been right thus far) is that the impacts on people's mental health from being cooped up and isolated for 12 weeks (at the end of the wettest winter on fucking record) are going to be almost as dire as the virus itself.