Usually I’m a glass half full kind of girl but, well, it’s all a bit rubbish isn’t it?
Normal. When will it return?
Just when we hoped a corner might be turned, more restrictions came into play, curbing the liberty we took for granted a touch over six months ago.
I think I’m carrying a touch of the Catholic guilt – for every time I feel a bit down, I give myself a hard time for being pathetic.
But everyone has lost something.
It might be as small as a holiday. It might be as irreplaceable as a life.
It might be being banned from a loved one’s bedside while they take their last breath.
It might be having to choose a maximum of 20 masked mourners at a funeral, when 200 would have turned up if they could.
It might be suffering a panic attack as you try to leave the house, TV images of patients gasping for breath in hospital on loop in your mind.
It might be sheltering at home alone when all you want is a cuddle from your child or grandchild – just the chance to squeeze their wee hand.
Read more from Martel Maxwell here
It might be having no idea if you’ll have a job or money to pay the bills come next month.
Or it might just be a feeling of emptiness, unanchored and navigating each new tidal wave of emotions and rules, not sure when the calm will kick in.
We try to remind ourselves that we shouldn’t moan – things have got better from those initial months of full lockdown.
School is back, giving parents time to work/earn/clean/think and the kids a routine, education and friendships.
We can go to the pub, café or shops – albeit with many limits.
We can see a relative in their garden, though ludicrously not in their home when a bar or restaurant is allowed.
But for all the times we try to buck ourselves up, sometimes we’ve just got to give into the feeling of sadness – that this has happened and one way or other, we’ve all lost something.
What we have to believe is that things will get better.
Whether we learn to live with Covid, get rid of it or get a vaccine, things will improve.
And when they do, the lasting positive will be an appreciation for the little things.
Like walking into a shop without a mask for one.
Who would have thought that would ever be our norm?
Chin up, chest out pals. We’ll get there and we’ll get there soon.
This article originally appeared on the Evening Telegraph website. For more information, read about our new combined website.