Firstly, I’d like to start by recognising that my own situation is by no means the worst to come out of the shit show that is 2020. Today, however, I am feeling sorry for myself.
As a type 1 diabetic, I began the pandemic in sheer panic as the media rammed down my throat the fact I was going to die a Covid-related death. Fast forward a few months, I’m starting to slowly get back to normal and a close family member is diagnosed with bowel cancer. Family member spends two weeks recovering alone in hospital while we try our best to provide distanced support. They are now facing 6 months of chemo, all while we are now in the midst of a second wave, and a local lockdown has shat on all my plans for the foreseeable future. Then a few weeks ago, I was made redundant.
It has to get better than this, doesn’t it? My partner and I have booked a weekend in London for the end of the month, I’m not sure if we should cancel now or try and remain hopeful we can do one fun thing this year.