Isolation - The Terrible Feeling of Being Alone

This isolation is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I thought it wouldn’t affect me, as I mostly stay home as it is. I’ve studied from home before, and it’s not as if I work or do much outside the house. Luke is considered essential, working in food packing and delivery, so I thought it would be much like every other day.

I was so wrong.

It didn’t help that the week before everything truly hit Australia, we picked up our new puppy, Luka, and I also came down with a cold. Just a cold, I highly doubt it was Covid-19, as it was primarily a sore throat and a sniffly nose, which resulted in a very mild cough. The symptoms didn’t quite match up. I got it from Luke, who got it from someone at the GP we went to for Hayden’s Meningococcal B needle. But you never know, it could have been Covid-19. I hope not.

So just before everything started, I stayed home sick a week early, dealing with the struggles of having a new puppy and a teething baby (who was also sick). Then when I finally felt better, Australia decided to shut down. So I’d already been isolating a week and was ready to finally get back to normal, and suddenly normal wasn’t quite normal at all.

I’ve honestly reached a low point in my life. Usually when everything becomes to much, I can go somewhere. Walk around the shops, where Hayden is happy in the pram and I can just window shop and enjoy the free aircon. I spent time at Luke’s mums house after every day at uni, getting free food and a break from being the sole carer of Hayden, plus the dog got to run around and socialize. Now whenever dog and kid together become too much, there’s nothing to do. I can’t go anywhere, and I can’t take the dog anywhere safe to wear him out (he’s not fully vaccinated yet).

Suddenly each night Luke was at work I found myself in tears, overwhelmed with being unable to accomplish anything in my day. Every small mistake felt like a huge failure, and I turned to self-harm at some darker points. There was no one to go to, no escape from my darkness. I was trapped in this house with all my demons and feeling more alone than ever before.

I tried to get help, but my usual GP is gone, and I can’t go into a doctor to see anyone as it’s not considered essential and having a child under one I’m considered high risk. So telehealth appointments were the only option, and I couldn’t pick the doctor I spoke to, I just had to consult with a doctor I’d never met before. It didn’t go well.

He rushed through my appointment, changing my meds despite my objections, ignoring every time I tried to ask if they were safe to take breastfeeding (he never answered that question despite the multiple times I asked him), and that was that, over within a minute or two tops.

The receptionist later emailed me a new script. The chemist wouldn’t tolerate a badly scanned picture of a script, so I had to ask for the GP to fax it through to the pharmacy. Only when I rang up the GP, they were closed until 7pm because I had rung on a Saturday, and they were an after hours only clinic. So the GP never overlapped with the Pharmacy, and I had a lot of confusion. They also sent my script to the wrong address, so some random person now has a script for medicine they don’t need. Luckily it’s been resent, so I should get it soon, hopefully.

Though it’s been a week since I reached out to the GP and I’m still suffering, still haven’t gotten my script or my medicine, and don’t really know how medicine is going to help. It won’t heal the scars on my legs or the bruising, it won’t change the fact that I feel alone and dread each and every day of my life. I was hoping more for counselling, someone to help me with coping mechanisms to get through these hard times. But medication was all I got, not that I’ve gotten it yet either.

Of course, all this may be affecting me, but it’s the affect on my son that hits the hardest. Almost daily I video call family, and his little face lights up with a smile when he sees them. But it’s not the same, and I can’t help but feel saddened that his first Easter isn’t with family. He may even spend his first birthday separated from everyone who loves him. He doesn’t know any different, but I do. I’ve been planning his birthday for months, and now all those plans have fallen to pieces.

His Great Aunt was meant to meet him for the first time in June, for his birthday we were flying her over from Queensland. But she’s in her 70s, only just recently recovered from breast cancer and undergone chemo, and is a very high risk individual. There’s no way she can visit now, it’s too risky for her, and the state borders are shut anyway. The regional borders are shut. We are discouraged from going beyond our own suburb except to work. Everywhere is isolated.

Hayden didn’t seem too fussed with the events, he’s only 9 months old and doesn’t really know any different. But there was still one particular moment that broke my heart. Luke’s mum, Hayden’s Nanna, came by to drop off the east presents she had for us, since we could no longer go through with our plans to spend Easter with family together. She dropped the stuff at our door, and then waited at the end of the driveway as we came out to collect it.

Luke held Hayden just inside the threshold, a good ten metres away from Nanna. She cooed and called to him, and his little face lit up. And then he reached out for her, wanting to go to her, and that tiny motion broke me. Because he couldn’t. He couldn’t hug someone that loved him that was right there, right in front of him. He couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t come closer, come inside, come hug him and hold him. It was one of the harder moments of my life.

My family is so far away. My grandma is across a regional border, and luckily she has Pop with her to keep her company, but they are mostly alone. She can no longer look after the little girl she’s been babysitting since she was just months old (she’s now 4… or 5?). Trying to explain to a child that young why she can’t see her friends and family is heart breaking in itself.

This isolation is hard, and I sometimes wonder if it’s worth it. But then I think of the people like my aunt, high risk, and I know we need to try our best. I think of my son, and how devastated I would be if anything happened to him because I didn’t take this thing seriously. I think of all the people scared and worried and staying home, and I can’t imagine putting their efforts to waste by going out and about myself.

It sickens me that some people don’t take this seriously and jeopardise the whole process with their stupidity, but that’s not where I want this post to end. I want this to be a memoir of hard times, something to look back on with pride that we got through a hardship such as this. I’m lucky, I’ve missed out on the majority of the world’s conflicts. It’s my older generations that can tell stories of the wars passed, where my stories are all second hand retellings from others. This is something I can survive and tell from my own point of view.

One day, Hayden may learn of the Covid-19 crisis that hit Australia in 2020. Maybe they’ll talk about the effect on the world’s economy. Maybe they’ll speak of the deaths and impact on our health systems and human welfare. Perhaps they’ll just speak of the science, the conspiracy theories and government action. Who knows what history will look like in the future, whether the tale will be told with accuracy or if it will change with time.

I just can’t wait to get through this, so I can see my family and celebrate my son’s birthday surrounded by the people I love. I want to see Luka play in the backyard with Millie, Jetz and Bundy. I want to give Jasper a big cuddle and introduce him to his new staffy friend. I want to poke my sister and annoy her. I want to see my mum, and let my family have Hayden cuddles.

I want to go for a walk, go shopping, go to the park. I want to play on grass or swing on a swing. I want to walk passed people again with adrenaline coursing through my blood at the sight of a stranger. I want to move forwards, move on, return to a fragment of normal that isn’t this isolation and loneliness.

I just am so happy I’m with my son, and have Luke here with me as well. I can’t imagine being more alone, yet there are people out there that are so much worse off than me. I wish for their sake, for my sake, for my family and friends’ sake, that all this is over sooner than we expect. I hope that all the people out there with similar thoughts to me make it through these tough days and nights. Because there have been multiple times where I’ve wondered if I’m strong enough to survive this, and though I know I will for my son, not everyone has something to live for.

Human nature, you are amazing, incredible, terrifying and devastating. I envy your power over all of us. Please have mercy on us, and let us survive this as best we can.