In The Isolation, Together

As my blogger name suggests, I am a mum living/ watching life from inside the bubble of isolation.  At first when social isolation and possible lock down was banded about, I thought that my daily existence would be unchanged, unaffected by these monumental changes in our society. I mean, I’m in all the time anyway. I’m not, or at least didn’t feel  part of that society.  But I was wrong. I have been affected. In some quite surprising ways.

I thought that having been isolated for so long I would feel, 

‘been there, done that’.  For the first week I think I probably did.  When people asked how we were doing I would respond with a “oh, same old, same old. Not much of a change for us”. I believe on occasion there was a note of frustration and accusation, as if to say “don’t you know this is how I have been living???”.  I will admit to having felt a certain amount of resentment at the sudden interest in how to connect with those isolated, all the resources and ideas, apps, chats, challenges, and the impression that it was only elderly people that would be alone and vulnerable.  I am very glad to say that I got over myself.

I think it was when I sat and engaged with the online church service, that I realised that I wasn’t alone.  I wasn’t isolated in my isolation.  I had been accessing the Sunday morning services on the church facebook page for probably the past year.  I would sit at my table for 10:30am, having made sure that the menagerie, including B, had been fed and watered, to reduce the chances of interruptions.  But this was different.  For one thing it had been moved from facebook to a youtube channel so I could have it on my TV instead of a tablet.  I could see the words of the hymns and actually join in. But I think the difference for me was that, how I was experiencing it was the same as the rest of the congregation.  I wasn’t different.  We were all the same. No longer looking in through a window, but on the inside. I felt more connected with the church family than I had in a long time.  I was part of, no longer apart from the congregation.  I know that I am very much a part of my church family, but sometimes for all of us, situations and circumstances can play games with our perception and leave us feeling disconnected, far away and believing the inner saboteurs.

The main point is that I was aware of feeling part of something.  Over the past week, that feeling of being part of something has grown and its not all too sensible.  For starters, has anyone else noticed how much people are willing to risk doing something totally out of the norm?  I’m talking about people like the guy who took his dog for a walk in Inverness in a huge dinosaur suit. I have begun to notice my own desire to do the silly things that I would normally never think of doing.  Like dying the ends of my hair green (it didn’t take very well, think my hair is too dark).  I feel an air of excitement that people are at home and accessible.  I am not alone.  I am patiently waiting on the next #hometasking challenge to come out so that I can get my ‘thinking outside of the box’ head on.  This new willingness to stand up and do the ridiculous and the unexpected is wonderful.  I think it is due to the lives of the whole of society changing and therefore our place in it is up for grabs.  There are no rules on how to be in lockdown, no right or wrong.  You can be who you want to be, you can be the real you, if you are lucky enough to know who that is.  Or you can try on different hats for size until you find what feels most authentically you.  That is what I think we are all doing, finding who we are in our empty rooms. That gives me a sense of excitement and terror in equal measure.  I am also aware of being left with sadness and guilt, sadness that this feeling of being together and part of something may be lost when this is all over, and guilt at feeling happiness for myself because the world is isolated with me.  Especially in light of the risk and trauma that so many are facing daily across the world due to this virus.

It is a truly horrific time for so so many people around the world and our friends and families.  The virus is destroying the lives of everyone it touches, from the poor souls that loose their lives, their families and loved ones and the health care staff around the world that are finding themselves climbing out off trenches and going over the top armed with a popgun in the face of missile launchers.

Whatever your part is within this crazy upside down nightmare world that we all find ourselves in, its important to allow yourself the space to be afraid, to feel sad, to help each other to laugh and to be that silly, radical, daring, whatever it is, authentic you. And above all else, Love each other, including yourself, be kind, thoughtful and be there.

Isolation and social distance is not just for a pandemic, for some it is just life

I am a 40 something mum of a 14 year old with an Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) diagnosis with a Pathological Demand Avoidant (PDA) profile, resulting in her suffering with extreme anxiety. We live together with our crazy dog, 2 rats and a fish. Due to the level of Bs anxiety we have been socially isolated for over a year.  I no longer have a job and B hasn’t been in school for over a year. She can't socialise face to face with anyone, spending most of every day in her room away from the world and me.


This blog is not a survival guide for isolation.  It is an honest description of the impact of long term isolation and social distance in a world that doesn’t see, from my personal experience. My thoughts and views may be different to yours, but that is ok because I am not you and your experiences are not mine.  What I hope to achieve with these ramblings is a wider understanding of the invisible struggles and pain that many live daily and to hopefully offer a sense of belonging to those living a life from within their own bubble of isolation for whatever reason.

I thought I knew but I was wrong

Shifting sands, rocks and barely balanced pebbles 

Isolation and loneliness is something that I never saw coming. It’s like so many other life situations and happenings, that only happen to other people, not me surely. I would go as far as saying that I never really understood what loneliness was. I knew the definition and had used it to describe how I was feeling on occasion, but in reality I had no real concept of what it actually was. I had been spared the rawness of prolonged loneliness and isolation. 

It is true, that you can feel lonely in a crowd. I have over the years and through previous episodes of mental unhealth, felt that desperate disconnection from my fellow humans and spent huge amounts of energy filling my time with things and stuff to distract and convince myself that i was fine, the disconnect was all in my head.  Now, living a life in an isolation bubble i am being forced to sit with the disconnect and look it in the eye with no escape hatch or ejector seat.

I know tat i am incredibly fortunate in the friends i have and support, both emotional and practical that they and my family provide, but even this can be a source of distress at my lowest points.  My inner default is to believe that i should be able to do ‘this’ alone.  Acknowledging that i can’t, is a mixture of liberation and conformational my weakness and unworthiness.

I am aware that this sounds very deep and depressing, and sometimes that is a very accurate description of my existence, but not always.  I am a positive person on the whole and i am hugely grateful for the blessings that i do have, no matter how small they may seem to others.  Things like B making it into the car, or the beauty of the sun shining on my newly cut grass, or the silly conversations and laughs that B and i have late at night waiting for her to be ready to sleep.  I get a lot of strength from my faith in God, knowing he is beside me through all situations in my life, holding me upright when it feels like i cannot hold my own weight.  I know that this is not the experience or belief of everyone but it is a part of my life and my experience.  I hope that the inclusion of my faith in God in this item does not make you want to stop reading.  I feel strongly that this should be an honest account of my experience and as such all aspects of my inner world will be acknowledged in as safe a way as possible.

I sincerely hope that this mass isolation and social distancing that is happening all over the country will foster a greater understanding and empathy for those whose lives are already like this.  It is  not laziness, or lack of trying that keeps us in.  It is extreme anxiety, physical illness and disabilities, ageing and being a carer, the list could go in.  It may look  and feel like the person doesn’t want to connect or engage, when in fact they can’t. 

Sympathy and empathy are not the same. Sympathy is seeing my plight or pain and thinking “thats terrible, how awful for you” and then offering me a crisp as you walk past.  Empathy on the other hand is seeing my pain and acknowledging it with understanding and without judgment.  Then sitting down beside me in the pain. No need to talk unless I do.  No need to fix what cannot be fixed.  If i can bare to sit with my distress, please allow me to. It will benefit me to be really seen without having to hide the pain inside as usual.  Remember, if someone shows you their true inner world, don’t shut them down to make you feel better, witness what they are sharing and honour the trust they have in you.