I Hate This Part
Hafsa is an Intensive care nurse in the Royal London hospital. Her passions in life consist of reading, feeding her friends and family and travelling across the world.
"My mind is consumed with thoughts that I am unable to filter appropriately without entering a rabbit hole that I can’t see an end to. I think I’m losing it…The ability to make small talk has completely disappeared.
At times I find myself practising social situations before they take place in order to avoid awkward moments. Except, they’re even more of a disaster because nothing I practised in my head even happens, which then leads to me feeling like I’ve failed. This is surreal to me, especially as an individual who loves talking to people, either I’m tongue tied or having verbal diarrhoea.
Thoughts go at a 100mph, “Am I talking too much?, Was that funny?, Am I too close? Are THEY too close?, I’m going to step back, Oh god they’re stepping forward, How long should this conversation last? WHY AM I STUTTERING? I definitely caught COVID from that hug”
Social interactions currently feel like I’m attempting to speak a language I haven’t spoken in ages. Life is like duo lingo and I’ve lost track of any thing normal.
The truth is, the introvert in me has somewhat enjoyed the lock downs. I enjoyed the peaceful days surrounding me and not having to attend lots of things. I saved a ton of money, I slept an awful lot and binged on Netflix. Well rested you’d think? Not at all. I’ve never felt so mentally occupied and emotionally drained, the fatigue was unbeatable. The days were going quick and I had no control of my sleep cycle. I was also consumed with emotionally eating and failed to reply to most messages and calls. I did however, not bake a single banana bread if you must know. I spent most of my time talking to my Dad who would dedicate his entire day revising the numbers all over the word and call me every night for an evening update. He was my new google. I found it incredibly entertaining and impressive that he knew the COVID cases from Sweden to Korea to even Somalia. It was a strangely heart warming distraction.
However, when the lock down started to lift, and social events resumed, telling people what I did for work was followed by an interrogation… “How bad is it?”, “Have a lot of people died?” and “I bet it’s just old people”. I initially looked for a mental break by attending these events but quickly stopped going, as the trauma was just constantly relived. I hope highlighting this shows that we need to approach everyone’s experience of the pandemic individually, some of us can’t talk about it yet and it’s not fair to expect us to.
If I wasn’t at work, I was either thinking about work or talking about it. My neighbours would stop me in the communal area (face red from my FFP3) and question the situation. I would often downplay the situation so I could crawl into bed after my tiresome shifts and also to somewhat protect their mental health. And the claps, oh god claps… They were heart warming initially and then it felt like they turned into social competition.
Lastly, please don’t call me a hero, it’s triggering. It has become increasingly uncomfortable to be hailed as heroes whilst the scariest nightmare unfolded right in front of us. The medical workforce are humans who risked their lives (and still do) to fight this pandemic. Instead, stand with us for better support and resources from the government so that we can do the best work to stand up to the pandemic and keep providing amazing care."