Skip to main content

London Lockdown Lament

 

The COVID Lockdown here in South London has been a fraught one for me. It didn’t start out that way. I’m used to spending hours on my own. When I was younger I thought this was a defect but then discovered it had a label – INTROVERT. Shrugging my shoulders philosophically, I gave in to my inner nature and split my time between friends, work, writing and watching my favourite films and TV programmes. So I wasn't unduly concerned about the London ‘Lockdown’.

 At the start of the Lockdown I was lucky enough to have a wonderful Airbnb guest staying with me. She came from Canada with her 3 cats in tow and we all got to know each other intimately. Well, more or less. The cats were very shy to begin with. But I charmed them with treats and my innate feline nature. I also made my guest do ridiculous tasks such as carrying an old water tank from a neighbour’s driveway to my garden so I can someday turn it into a water feature. No, that hasn’t happened yet, but it will. Eventually.

My guest (no doubt spurred on by the mystery tasks I set her each day) left for more permanent accommodation in Richmond and I assumed I would settle back into my daily routine minus the friend visiting. But once my guest left I developed an inertia I couldn’t shake. Quite simply, I went into a depression. I barely moved off the sofa except to get myself something to eat or drink.

In retrospect, this was a long time coming. Last November through to December I was very ill. I realised at that point I had to change my lifestyle and decided to quit my teaching jobs to focus on my writing and Airbnb guests. I set this plan in motion by resigning from various workplaces. I was about to rely solely on my Airbnb income because my writing income is still incredibly precarious. I was about to take a GAMBLE. It’s not in my nature. But I figured that since I was getting a small but regular income from Airbnb, it would all work out.

Not being prescient, I didn’t anticipate the COVID crisis. Before I could count to 5 never mind 10, London and the rest of the UK was in Lockdown. Without consulting hosts, Airbnb blocked their calendars indefinitely. I no longer had any income at all. And still I believed I could deal with this situation completely SOLO.

I had forgotten that famous quote: “No (wo)man is an island.”

It was time for a long hard look at what I wanted from life. It was time for me to be honest with myself.

So this is what my London Lockdown has taught me about myself:

  •  I am not an island
  •  I don’t like being alone
  •   I self-sabotage my writing career
  •  I used to love teaching but it’s no longer for me
  •  I like human interaction more than I realised even though I’m an introvert
  • I prefer human contact to online interaction – even if that contact is sporadic and at a time of my choice

It taught me a whole lot of other stuff too but I don’t want to bore you with that. What’s important right now is that I’m starting to get back to the ME I used to be. I’m writing again, mainly poetry and not all the time. But I’m writing again. And now I’ve written this blog post. I’m tackling my self-sabotaging behaviour one task at a time.

At this point I would like to extend huge thanks to my homeopath and all my friends who have been supporting me while I was having my meltdown. As Bette would say, “you are the wind beneath my wings.”

 Good News

All my books are now available for Nook, iBook, Kobo & reader subscription services such as Scribd

To celebrate this fact, Memoirs of a Feline Familiar is currently on sale


The July sales of Zoo Nation means Bev and I are donating £10 to our chosen charities this month.

Thank you for supporting us!

 Free Books


 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Happy New Year!

Wishing you PEACE, LOVE, HAPPINESS & every good thing the world has to offer for 2020

Sun Worship

My second novel – Sharp Dark Things (desperately needing 3rd edit and hoping to be published on autharium.com) contains a description of my character sunbathing her eyelids in the early morning sun.  


And because I know you're wondering why:  


It's her moment of epiphany.  

In the spirit of living with my characters I thought it only right to emulate her actions – feel what she felt, hear what she heard... blah di blah blah.

I stood there, eyes shut, head tilted to meet the day and promptly sneezed humungously.  I recall this happening to me as a child.  It appears I'm still afflicted.

Why does this happen?  I pondered 

So I Googled it.

Because: 

a) the laptop is in the next room 
b) it can be accessed even with one hand still wrapped around a cup of tea and
c) I think a trip to the library for this sort of diversionary tactic is a little excessive

And discovered an actual syndrome called Photic Sneeze Reflex.  18 - 35% of humans suffer from it, including me.

At this point I'm try…

Best Wishes for the Festive Season

Wishing you all the very best for this festive season. Thank you for all your support over the course of this year. I look forward to bringing new and improved writing to you in the New Year and hope all your most fervent wishes come true.