Coronamoaner: Cancelled Christmas


Urgh. I knew this was coming. I knew that it was irresponsible to go home for Christmas anyway and was seriously uncomfortable about it – yet didn’t really have a choice.

But still, I feel simultaneously flat and angry.

Angry mostly at China who seem to be getting away with it – I’d be much more at ease if they still had an issue with covid, as horrid as that sounds. Angry at our government about the way they have mishandled an admittedly really difficult and shitty situation – but I’d really rather not have someone as optimistic as Boris in charge. Don’t fucking lead us up the garden path of hope only to be stabbed in the heart at the last minute. Just say no in the first place.

I’m angry with myself also as I cannot decide whether all these lockdowns and tiers are necessary or total bullshit. I went along with the original lockdown on the basis of saving the NHS, but also worried that it would cause more harm than just letting the virus do it’s thing – in terms of total years of life lost.

I cannot decide whether I am totally behind the restrictions or totally against them. I’m not in the middle – my beliefs over the necessity of restrictions pings between them as if I am a table tennis ball – or wiff waff ball, if you remember the heady time of Boris Johnson weirding out the Chinese in 2008.

Funny headline, huh?

And then I’m just totally flat and demotivated.

There is a pattern here. Hints come out about upcoming changes to tiers. Then the 10:30pm newspaper headlines hint further. I then spend all the next day feeling anxious and sometimes a restless night’s sleep. I did about 5% of what I intended on doing today. Same happens if it is a workday – I spend a disproportionate amount of time doomscrolling, and to do my job well I need to concentrate for long time spans – it isn’t easy to flick my head in and out of coding.

And then the announcement happens, yet I then feel weirdly reassured and calm down, as if I’ve been given a 2 year suspended sentence with a tag and 200 hours community service.

Yet still totally fucked off.

And I feel so helpless.

The only thing I can do is try to ensure that the first of two Christmases is as good as possible for my family – who I think are taking the news way harder than I am. I mean, I kind of like the idea of celebrating twice.

I even have a plan. Yeah I’ve been expecting this, so I’ve a 3 day plan written down for how we can try to maximise family time and replicate Christmas as close as possible given the circumstances.

It’s fucking shite and I feel defeated. Spiritually defeated. Yet somehow I intend on making the best out of the situation. I will have two good Christmases. Fuck covid. Fuck China. Fuck Boris.

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