I have been reading through some of my posts that kept me sane during the hard lockdown last year. If you want to take a gander at them, the first post is here.
Part of me can hardly believe it has already been as long as that, because those first three weeks feel like a distant memory. Sometimes I wonder if they indeed did happen, because looking back now, I realize that as tough as those first-three-weeks-now-more-than-three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days have been, I’ve adapted and grown.
I am extremely humbled; a psychotherapist friend in Bristol in the UK asked me to be a contributor for her practice’s website. My first article is available to read here. I shall write for her as required, from my own perspective as someone with depression, on various topics. It is a tremendous privilege to be part of a project like this, knowing that my stories may help others who are struggling.
As I was writing the published article, it got me thinking about other aspects of lockdown and how they’ve affected me.
I said to Eliza the other day that I am starting to hoard stuff, and it is scary. I know that hoarding is linked to certain mental illnesses, including depression. To quote a short excerpt from an article I found online: “The term hoarding refers to a psychological disorder whereby an individual refuses to discard things that they own. The person holds a firm belief that they will eventually need these items for some reason.”
Yesterday morning I woke up to many messages saying happy Spring or something to that effect. I am a stickler about the true start of Spring in the Southern Hemisphere, purely because the Equinox is on my birthday.
I then saw the news that Eskom was once again implementing load shedding. My flowery thoughts did a three-sixty. New season, new loadshedding…
On Thursday last week I had a MS Teams meeting at 11 and I was out of data, along with money to buy, so Eliza offered that I work at her and Nathan’s place for the day. Their little boy, Lambert, aged almost four called for Eliza and I to ‘come look’ and eventually we got round to it. There on the ground in front of the sliding door lay a tiny bird, clearly stunned from flying into the sliding glass door.
It’s amazing how when you actually sit down and look for places to stay, you find gems right on your doorstep. One such place is Arendsrus Country Lodge. It’s less than 45 minutes from where I live, and the perfect place to stay a night or two to recharge your batteries.
Driving to Arendsrus, you may think where is this road taking me – after all, it takes you past the Morningside chicken farm, but when you arrive at the lodge, you feel like you’re in a different place. The road leading to reception is lined with trees, which, when in bloom, must be breathtaking to see.
At the beginning of the year, when the Coronavirus was still only in China, I set a list of goals (as opposed to New Year’s Resolutions) – one of which was to have a getaway at least once a quarter. Lockdown totally messed with quarter one and two, but as soon as whatever-minister-is-in-charge-of-tourism announced that intra-provincial travel was allowed, I was online to find things to do and places to stay like white on rice.