Lockdowns. We’ve had three of them now and each has forced me to think about the people in my life in a different way.
The first lockdown had me scared of the unknown - unsure when I would see my friends again and wondering why not all of them were taking it as seriously as others. Moreover, I found that this lockdown brought out a rather anxious side to my personality that I was largely unaware of before. As I am a people-pleaser at heart, I love surrounding myself with lots of friends. However, with Covid-19 limiting opportunities to socialise, many people - including myself - have had to decide over the past year or so between breaking the rules or missing out. As I am a second-year university student and a crucial part of the ‘university experience’ is socialising, I couldn’t help but feel like the supposed ‘best years of my life’ were passing by without me being able to make the most of them.
As time passed, so did these emotions...
Summer gave us the availability of green open spaces, the rule of 6, and some semblance of freedom. At the time, I didn’t feel guilty about claiming that myself and five friends who looked suspiciously unrelated were, in fact, all from the same household; I was just overjoyed to be reunited with my friends from home. By this time, a lot of my anxiety had subsided and I was feeling pretty secure. This quickly proved to be a false sense of security because come November, we were hit with lockdown 2.0 and scientists blamed the surge in cases on the ‘Eat Out To Help Out’ scheme, the pubs staying open, and the blasé attitude of the general public.
I spent the second lockdown in my uni house with four other students - a very different environment than the first lockdown. This was nice because, as much as I love my parents, anyone who has ever lived away from home understands the fidgety feeling you get whenever you go back and that itch to return to life away from home. In the second lockdown, I was grateful for my housemates. We all kept each other going, this time clinging to the idea of being allowed home for Christmas - funny how we yearn for the opposite of what we have! We were socialising within our household, planning film nights, and just enjoying getting to know each other and the city we live in. Despite being lucky enough to live with friends, I couldn’t help thinking that living with more people increased our chances of catching the virus. Luckily we didn’t, although looking back, November was most definitely the month where I was at my lowest. I felt guilty if I saw friends who weren’t part of our household but, at the same time, I was apprehensive that I would be labelled as ‘too cautious’ if I didn’t. Thankfully, the people I surround myself with would not be as shallow as to judge me for being cautious, especially during a pandemic.
University student or not, we all face this debate - whether to abide by the coronavirus restrictions and watch on as acquaintances carry on hedonistically without worrying about the impact their actions could have on their household, the people around them and - most importantly - the NHS, or whether to break the rules and see loved ones, putting not only ourselves but also others at risk. As a result of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out), I admit that on more than one occasion I decided to give in and see other friends, but at what cost? Repeatedly I was kept awake at night, wondering if I had the virus yet, wondering whether I had spread it to my housemates and would be hated forever, wondering if I’d be hospitalised and become just another rule-breaker whose selfishness took someone else’s life. I was thinking of the worst-case scenario but all of those could have been possible outcomes.
That brings us up to speed
We are now in our third lockdown as a country and rather selfishly, I am focusing on myself and finding that if my friends are breaking rules, it is none of my business this time around. Instead, I find myself reminiscing about the old times, longing to see friends and family again, regardless of their behaviour during previous lockdowns. A large percentage of people I know have had coronavirus now and around October-time I wasn’t seeing any of my friends at uni anyway because it seemed like there was a new case in someone I knew every day. With talk of students being allowed back to uni as soon as possible, I am curious to see whether my friends will adopt the view of ‘I’ve had it so what is there to worry about?’ when we return. If so, does this show us a glimpse of the potential attitude of the nation as we are all slowly but surely vaccinated?
What might the future look like?
People must have wondered over the past year whether the judgements they are making about their friends’ behaviour and vice versa will stick around after this is all over. Will we suddenly convert to some sort of divided state of mind where friends, family and colleagues will be blacklisted from future gatherings because of how they acted during lockdowns? The most likely outcome will, of course, be that if coronavirus ever leaves us be, most grievances will be forgotten about and people all over the world will just be grateful they get the chance to mingle safely again, free of judgement.
The virus is serious; I am not denying that. It has killed millions of people, devastated families close to me and, at times, wreaked havoc on my mental state. However, regardless of whether you abided by the coronavirus restrictions, surely we should be looking ahead to the seemingly brighter future where we can meet friends again, safe in the knowledge that we won’t be blamed for single-handedly killing people, or worse, be at risk of actually spreading the virus.
By Kerry Violet
Image courtesy of Markus Spiske via Pexels