Last year, in January, before the shit hit the fan, I turned 24. I was determined and full of enthusiasm and I was still on a high from getting my first flash fiction published and full of ideas for my blog, I was optimistic for the first time in ages and for once, I was looking forward to the future.
But then Covid happened. My job that had always provided routine and motivation furloughed me, and I found myself stuck in the house with not a lot to do. At first, I stayed on the bright side. I found a great group called The London’s Writers Salon and dedicated most of my mornings and afternoons to writing short stories and other things. I took up jogging and managed to do some yoga in the morning. I cleaned the house and tried to keep myself busy.
But lockdown stretched onwards and the routines and motivation just kept slipping. I wasn’t sleeping and when I did, it was during the day and more and more I hid myself away from everyone. I was beginning to lose the optimism that I had for the start of the year. Even when things began to slowly open again, I just didn't care. I just didn’t see the point anymore. I was fed up and no longer saw the reason for even trying to be happy.
It’s not easy admitting that 2020 wrecked me. The depression hit hard. I had made so much work to get myself on the right road and now it just seemed 2020 was determined to block the way forward. I was getting rejections constantly for my writings, normally this wouldn’t have weighed too much on me, but being stuck at home meant this was constantly on my mind.
I hated everything.
I was wanting to lower my Sertraline from 150mg to 100mg, but when I had to talk to the GP about how much I was struggling, they decided it wasn’t a good idea. They wanted to push me up to 200mg and I said no. Sometimes I wonder if that was a good idea or not.
I was also given sleeping pills for the terrible insomnia, which is a blessing and a curse at the same time. Why even try to relax and drift off when the easier option is right there next to you?
Things started to perk up when I was able to go back to work during the summer and I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Near the end of year, things were getting better. I was no longer furloughed and I got back to work and me and my husband managed to take a quick trip to Inverness where I finally went to Leakey’s bookshop. The optimism that I had at the start of the year was finally returning.
I felt better.
But they then put us on lockdown again.
2021 came whizzing around the corner and so did my birthday. I was 25 and felt like I had not achieved a single thing last year to be proud of. I was back on furlough and was running out of steam.
Then I was made redundant from my job and I had officially lost all hope.
This post is such a contrast to my previous one where I was so excited for the new possibilities around the corner. But this post isn’t about feeling sorry for myself. It’s about admitting what a shitty year 2020 was and getting it off from my chests that I can finally move forward.
It’s also about admitting, that even though I sunk back into my depression, I’m still here.
I’m still writing.
I have written more short stories than I thought possible and read more books than I have in a long time. I became closer to one of my friends who has been an angel throughout all of this and have found solace in The London’s Writer’s Salon.
I managed to go on a trip to Balloch with my family and spent time with my niece and nephew and my sister. I want to travel more and I’m starting to feel restless.
I applied for a creative writing course down in Glasgow and my work has been able to welcome me back and will have me on relief.
I’ve still got a way to go. I made a lot of mistakes last year that I’m trying to make up for. I had allowed relationships to become strained and didn’t try as hard as I could have to stop things from slipping. I still struggle to get up some mornings and some days I don’t even bother. But at least it’s not every day.
Despite everything though, I still managed to see and do some incredible things this year. I saw Loch Lomond and it was breath-taking. I went to Stirling Castle and stepped inside the bedchambers of King and Queens. I walked the pilgrimage path at Luss and saw the giraffes at Blair Drummond.
There is so much to see and to do and I can’t wait to see what’s next.
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