Posted on: 01 May 2020
It’s a bit like slowtivation really; I’m not sure if it’s a thing, but just because someone else hasn’t decided yet to call it a thing, doesn’t mean it’s not a thing.
Everybody’s suffering it – one way or another.
I’m not really convinced that the longer-term effects of this lockdown won’t actually be far more damaging in the end than this virus ever could be.
You’re not allowed to say it though.
You’re not allowed to care about anything else or be concerned about anything else.
You’re supposed to just keep quiet with the stories you hear, from friends, of the non-corona suffering that is going on whilst we’re all “staying safe” at home.
Stories like these:
- A father choosing to end his cancer treatment because the hospital have told him they simply don’t have the staff available to provide the care he needs.
His death won’t be recorded as being in any way related to coronavirus – and yet without covid-19, his treatment would continue and his life would be prolonged.
- A social worker, going crazy in her isolation from the world, because in her world, there are 15 children locked in houses, with the vile sub-humans that are abusing them physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually.
Let’s be honest, for most of those children, it will be a combination of these abuses, not just one they must endure. For some kids, facing up to the school bully is a damn sight easier than the attrocities they have to put up with at home.
- A manager of a children’s home, in absolute despair as 30 children in his care are having to be locked up in their rooms for 23 hours a day, because that is the only way social distancing can be maintained under the circumstances these kids, victims don’t forget, that’s why they’re in there in the first place, now find themselves.
These aren’t prisoners. They shouldn’t be. The only thing these kids have done wrong is be born to disgusting paedophiles who think their off-spring are theirs to rape whenever they choose.
- A sweet little old lady, taking the trouble to make sure that another little old lady, older and more vulnerable than her, unable to get to the shops for herself, has at least got food to get her through the day. Meals on wheels aren’t visiting anymore, so this sweet little old woman decided to do the job herself. Her neighbours reported her, and she got in trouble with the police.
It’s ok for the elderly to die of starvation. As long as it’s not covid-19 that takes them out.
I’m only touching the tip of the ice-berg, because if I think about it too much then I’m going to sink further and faster than Titanic ever did – but nobody would remember my story, and even though the depression of lockdown syndrome would have been the thing that killed me – the false and misleading record books wouldn’t let me be shown as yet another of the victims of the 2020 plague.
But we’re not allowed to talk about it.
I’ve had to remove myself from Facebook. I’ve had to remove myself from “helpful” groups like Mountains for the Mind:
“Yeah, I know it’s terrible all these people travelling up to the Lake District, but, I like running, and I know someone who gets depressed sometimes, so I’m different right, because I understand, so I want to know what you lot think, is it ok for me to go there? Here’s the pictures of me on Helvellyn 2 hours ago”
I’ve had to remove myself from mainstream media – a bit of news about it I can handle, I need to know some of it for work, but wall to rolling coverage on every damn channel that I see on the TV or hear on the radio – come on broadcasters – one of you stick your neck out and report about something else – maybe take your cameras into that children’s home – show Boris what lockdown really means.
I’ve had to remove myself from people in the streets. If they’re not utterly paranoid and behaving like they’ve done something shameful – stand stock still, look down at the floor, turn head slightly away, don’t look him in the eyes don’t look him in the eyes, if you can see him he can see you and then you’ll catch it – they’re either ignorant as pigs or mad as BSE cattle.
I can’t soak up anymore videos like that of a self-righteous shop keeper ranting about the audacity of a customer trying to return 2400 toilet rolls and 150 bottles of hand gel because he can’t shift them on E-bay “no, I said, you’re part of the problem mate, people like you”
Really? Do you have any self awareness at all?
You’re part of the problem – mate – quick enough to take the dollar when it was flashed in-front of you – greed - pure greed – didn’t think about your other customers then did you – just took the quick green buck.
So I’ve had to remove myself from some of my friends too. They show me this stuff though I ask them not too.
But we’re not allowed to talk about it.
NHS - "they're ALL heroes"!
Don't even get me started on that!
They'll need to be bloody heroes won't they - you knob heads are all stood in big groups infecting eachother aren't you!
I know you're going to rip me for this - but like it or not I am a man of truth - and the truth ain't always cushty.
Undoubtedly, our NHS has many many heroes amongst it's ranks - but come on, ALL heroes? Don't forget that when you say "ALL" - that includes the managers who took the matrons off the wards; that includes the likes of Victorino Chua, Beverly Allitt, Dr Harold Shipman..... none of us know if there are more of these people functioning in the NHS right now. You're shooting fast and loose with that word "ALL".
Did you know that in my local hospital EVERYBODY on the hospital staff with a BMI of over 40 - is currently sat at home on full pay? Health workers, some of them, admin. staff the rest - in a health profession - with a BMI of over 40. These are hypocrites - not heroes.
But we're definitely not allowed to talk about that.
Thank goodness we've got people like Captain Tom - putting in the £30million it's going to take to pay their wages and cover the costs of their healthcare while they continue to indulge their poor lifestyle choices at home.
I take nothing away from what he's done - that man really is a hero.
At least I’m still in work – and I suppose at times like these that is something to be thankful for.
Needed a walk when I got home though, a bit of fresh air and a bit of sunshine in-between the particular madness of how work currently is, and being able to properly relax for the evening with Mol. I wanted to run with her, but too achy today for that.
So I walked, just down into my local park and walked around the lake, except I couldn’t, there were loads of people there, ambling around on a 1 metre wide path – well I don’t want to amble, I want to walk, but I can’t walk now can I – there’s all these people in the way.
I went a different route, and my head started to clear.
West Highland Way.
Cornland Coastal Path. (I should explain, Cornland is my silly little name for Cornwall.)
Offa’s Dyke Path.
Lands’ End to John O’ Groats.
Welsh Coastal Path.
I could have just walked, and walked, and walked.
I could quite happily have just gone “stuff it” and set off walking South. Yes it was Southwards I was facing and I know it from the sun.
I could have walked and walked and walked until there was no more land to walk, and then I could quite simply keep on walking, out into the sea.
I don’t want to do that though. Not really.
It’s just lockdown syndrome, and its affecting all of us. We’re just not allowed to talk about it, you know, ‘cause the virus has to be the only news we’ve got.
Hope everyone is doing ok?
I don't mind telling you, I'm not.
Don't know how Molly's putting up with me to be honest.
Bad joke warning - my dad always told me it's poor form to give a nurse the clap.
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