I once had a Kiwi friend. A lovely chap with a relaxed demeanour, he was a valued flatmate and drinking buddy as we made Sarf London, for a short while, our home. Inevitably, folk move on and I arranged to share lodgings with my then girlfriend, now wife, in Leytonstone, leaving the Kiwi high and dry. With no other options, we invited him to stay with us in our first home together: a love nest with a semi sozzled Kiwi thrown in. Much as it was lovely to have him there, his stay extended beyond the two weeks and we finally got shot six months later when ultimatums were served by the missus.

Expectation vs reality is also a thing with Covid. We have been mistaken time and again in the belief that once lockdown is over, or the vaccine rollout had reached a heady steam, that we would return to normal. In reality, normal as we knew it looks likely never to return as we struggle with the side effects, after effects and unsavoury, unwelcome variables that the pandemic has brought into our midst.

One of these is paranoia. On Saturday, for what felt like the first time in adulthood, I arranged to meet a few familiar faces down the local boozer. I have consoled myself (and rather enjoyed lockdown) by frequenting, on a daily basis, a new garden building, equipped with Sky TV, heating, a fridge and a bar and have become rather used to my own company as I learnt to like myself. Arranging the meet was, however, fraught. Out of nowhere, with some element of anxiety and in the lead up, on a handful of occasions, I hovered my finger over messenger in order to bail out, for some spurious, made-up reason.

Anxiety over Covid makes it easy to avoid meeting friends. Photo: Pixabay

Anxiety over Covid makes it easy to avoid meeting friends. Photo: Pixabay

These are long-term friends who have seen me, and me them, as low as you can go, be it drunk and covered in their own fluid, or in tears following life trauma, which is why the anxiety-ridden anticipation of doing what we had done scores of times prior was such a curiosity.

It turns out it is a ‘thing’. Phebe Tucker MD, from the department of psychiatry at Oklahoma University believes that millions are now suffering from ‘Post-Covid stress disorder’ as a form of PTSD. Traumatic stressors include severe illness, hospitalisation, witnessing death and the demise of a loved one as well as, arguably, one we have all been privy to: extreme exposure to Covid-19 details.

But it is the ‘general stressors’ that are to blame for yours truly, and legions amongst us who, when faced with hitherto normal pre-Covid activity, now choose to at least contemplate an alternative: we are now put on a path of least resistance as we have quickly become comfortable, against our will, with lockdowns and all that entails. The general stressors are quarantining, social isolation, employment and income loss, working from home with kids (I agree 110 per cent!), being a caregiver, inadequate PPE and making difficult medical decisions, either as a professional or as a parent for a loved one, when the guidance, especially early doors, was sketchy at best.

Sleep has suffered. In a survey of 7,000 Chinese folk in 2020, 35 per cent surveyed claimed to be suffering from poor sleep and anxiety whilst a CDC mental health survey found 26 per cent suffered PTSD symptoms, 31 per cent anxiety or depression, 14 per cent an increase in substance use and abuse, and suicidal thoughts of 11 per cent of the populace.

Lockdown has left some feeling safer alone at home than meeting old friends

Lockdown has left some feeling safer alone at home than meeting old friends

Now we can brush over the survey, tap our heels and believe everything will turn out rosy in the end. Personally, I believe there is more to it than that, and the after-effects are here to stay. The effect on children has been stark, when previously outgoing kids are now housebound, having missed out on social interaction as the parents become more medicated to get through the days. The adults have had financial burdens placed upon them as they remained in households that are like tinderboxes, sometimes exploding into domestic violence.

We are now comfortable with screens and tech to run our lives and daren’t even pop out for a bit of shopping as we continue to work from home and become more anti-social with each passing day. Our mental illnesses, due to the slow onset, are never picked up or diagnosed, and soon it becomes the new normal as you turn down the less frequent invites to see long term friends. Eventually the phone stops ringing, and you are truly alone, as you dream of a world pre-Covid and wish we could go back to those most utopian of times.

Brett Ellis EL91824_04

Brett Ellis EL91824_04

  • Brett Ellis is a teacher