There is a numbness as if there’s a cloak covering the sharpness of everything. It feels like I’m seeing the world without my glasses on.

Eva’s #MadCovidDiaries Diary 8.4.2020

TW: COVID, Depression

Third week in self-isolation/social distancing: Overall I have gone quiet and introspective.

I like talking to people less, they inevitably ask that intimidating ‘how are you’ question. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? At the moment I don’t know what the answer really is.

I am not looking for a rescuer or someone to reassure me. I do not want any of that. I don’t really know what I want but I get annoyed when people ask me if I want ‘to talk’. Talk about what? Some of the people asking me to talk, I don’t trust them. My friends, I feel distant to, I don’t answer or return calls.

It is harder to leave my bed and I am sleeping more than usual. I don’t mind that because it passes the time but I still have stuff to do, stuff for work, stuff for personal development. I am doing these and exercising every morning so I guess that means I am not really depressed.

I feel detached from everything, like everything isn’t really real and is far away from me. I am less bothered about things now and I like being this way, being less bothered means there is no anxiety. There is a numbness though as if there is a cloak covering the sharpness of everything. It feels like I am seeing the world without my glasses on.

My family haven’t enquired how I am and I haven’t done the same to them either. Some days I hate them for this, other days I am glad. To be concerned about each other isn’t a reality, perhaps it would be a case that if we did contact each other, it was more out of duty instead of concern.

I have been on my own a lot apart from video conferencing friends and work and I think that’s why I am starting to hear voices. Mainly at night, so it could be that normal thing that everyone experiences before they go to sleep. They are not frightening voices. More like a disconnected collage of voices.

I often think what is the point of my life existing untethered  and I toy with the idea that if I contracted the virus, I wouldn’t get help for it, I would die alone in my flat. I am taking medication that has lowered my immunity. I am a black woman, which statistically means the odds for help are against me and that has been a long standing reality.

I know my care team are focused on people who need injections and are in crisis. The care co-ordinator told me this the last time we spoke. She was assuming things about me, barely gave me a chance to talk or asked questions about me. She had it all figured out for me so there wasn’t much left for me to say.

Mine is a quieter crisis. Alone somehow again. The world is in a pandemic and I am alone and dissociated and descending into my own world.

I’d be scared when this is all over and I make it out alive. I’d have to interact with people again, then the confusion and anxiety would increase in intensity. I like being alone and I also don’t. I do not have much choice at the moment.

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