I felt it again last week. That vice-like grip of wanting to lose myself in a bottle. To just ‘not think’ for a while. Like a hunger that drives me restless, I squirmed under the squeeze and realised…

This used to be how I felt all the time.

There have been some tough moments lately. The weather, the seemingly endless nature of this isolation, the fact that I have left the house exactly once in the past month, or the constant provocations from a certain child in the family who shall remain nameless – all of this combines at times into a toxic mess that threatens to overwhelm me.

I like order. I thrive on peace.

But apparently this isn’t universal. At least not according to one of our children who seems to delight in lighting ‘fires’ underneath his siblings and standing back to watch them burn. I know this experience has been hard on everyone, and I realise that the being tethered to a screen for most of the week with online learning is hard for those with high energy. But having to clean up the chaos over and over again pretty quickly wears my patience thin.

There have been tantrums and doors slamming, lectures (so many lectures), pleas and bribes. We sure haven’t hit peak parenting during the majority of moments when we are all together.

It’s hard. And we haven’t even faced the worst of this pandemic. None of us are sick. Neither of us have lost our jobs. All we have to do is wait out this endless isolation.

So why is it so difficult?

I’ve used this pandemic as an excuse to enclose myself. To shut off from the world. The temptation to go inward becomes irresistible. And the more I withdraw, the more formidable becomes the challenge of simply leaving these four walls. My home becomes my prison. I’m trapped here by my own (lack of) power.

My perspective shrinks to my own situation. I overlook the pain of others and magnify the worst of our  failings. I forget to use compassion and hope as my lens.

In the overwhelm, I am overcome. I feel a shuddering wish to escape from my own head. Wine was my path to ‘freedom’ before I realised it only offered a temporary bandaid for the pain (along with the insidious guarantee of making it all worse later).

Old patterns beckon when we let down our guard.

It isn’t easy to withstand the storm. The water buffets and drowns me. I bob in the current, feeling powerless to overcome it.

But then I wait.

The secret is that the waves always have to end somewhere. Even the tsunamis eventually subside. The chaos is overwhelming and the water churns everything – turning me upside down and inside out… but all feeling really want is to be felt.

Not pushed down, distracted away, drowned in alcohol.

How easy that is to write now – in the calm and order of daylight. The murkiness of night obscures these truths and threatens to sweep everything of value away. The struggle is real, and if you feel it too – particularly with the instability and grief of these times – know that you are not alone.

I am reminded of this by thoughtful messages from friends and family, by the delicious Mexican chicken casserole and choc chip cookies dropped off this week by a generous friend, by the sharing of memes to trigger much needed laughter. The interactions with neighbours – who have suddenly become the majority of our face-to-face contact.

We may have lost the visceral privilege of connection, of being embraced and greeted by friends and family, even the underappreciated banality of small talk.

Life isn’t the same. And it may never really return to what it was.

But the more we allow ourselves to ride the waves, to reach out when we are feeling overwhelmed and to remember that our pain isn’t simply our own – we can become stronger despite the suffering. We can rise to the challenge, hone our gratitude and find the hope.

Because humans are resilient, creative and adaptable creatures. With the power to overcome and the insight to change. And yes, that includes you.

…

Are you having a tough time right now? It’s okay if you are. How can you do just one little thing right now to move in the right direction? Shoot off a message? Have a cup of tea? Shut yourself in your room for five minutes and just breathe? I find it’s more about the direction I’m moving in than the magnitude of the activity. Let me know how you go!

I should add that there have been great moments too, within the chaos. Here are a few of the past week: