Throw me a lifebuoy FFS, I’m drowning. Well okay, then not drowning, but definitely doing a lot of treading water to keep the auld napper above the waves.
Some days my personal pandemic psychology is rock solid, buoyant even. However this week, spirits have taken a bit of a dip, partly because the sun has returned to its normal Scottish status (behind a bank of thick April clouds) and partly because my midlife hormonal activity just will not give me a break. Why can’t my body behave? Doesn’t it understand? A deadly virus and social isolation are bad enough without throwing the old oestrogen rollercoaster into the mix.
Amazingly, and according to several real people’s voices I’ve heard on the radio, they are simply not phased by the Coronavirus crisis. Some go as far as loving the tranquility and foot-off-the-gas which lockdown affords them. Me? Nah, I’m champing at the bit. On good days, I’m bursting with positive vibes and productivity, on bad I’m a grumpy old cow.
Six weeks in, and the grump sure is upon me. I’m sure a good mood will return, because as anyone who casts an eye over these scribblings will know, this wee wumman is pretty good at bouncing back. And yet, it’s sometimes supremely difficult to be anything other than gloomy. And that’s because the real source of my gathering storm isn’t hormones or weather fronts, it comes from the future.
When you’ve put heart, soul, endless hours and every ounce of your energy into building a business over several years, the prospect of closure weighs very heavy indeed. I’m not about to pull down the shutters, indeed the demise of Word Up is far from written in the stars or on tablets of stone, and I’ll fight tooth and nail to prevent it, but still, it’s a live possibility. The prospect of watching all that graft being flushed down the lav by a bat (or a civet cat, who cares?) is stressful, dispiriting and very scary indeed. So forgive me if I slip into despondency now and again.
I’m probably just in an unforgiving frame of mind, but exhortations to embrace self care, exercise and positivity don’t really help, or not this week anyway. In fact, all that stuff is setting my teeth on edge. Any hint of deeper woo-woo and the red mist really starts to descend. Guys, I know what needs to be done to keep strong in body and mind, I just need to wallow once in a while.
When not deep in the mire, I am thinking ahead. I’m considering diversification and innovation (in a half-hearted way), and attempting to come up with A Plan. I’m reminding everyone of my business existence, but trying to do so in a way that isn’t accompanied by the stench of desperation, and I’m doing some work for a few brilliant clients who are preventing me from landing on my entrepreneurial uppers.
Meantime, I’ll just keep clinging onto the lifebuoy, and hoping that the tides wash me safely ashore.
Room on that raft for 2?
I get what you mean about the exhortations to re-write your life and bake your best cookies ever, when al you want to do is drink the offy dry, or bury your head under the duvet and hope it’s just a bad dream.
This too shall pass – like a kidney stone for some – but it will pass.
Have managed not to plunder the drinks cabinet too badly (yet) and am even getting the head out from under the duvet, so all hope is certainly not lost. But bloody hell, it will be amazing to go a pub again, whenever that might be.
Room for another? I have been in a dip on my ‘change curve’ this week and I am a life planner – supposed to be sending out life rafts to help others and being a role model for staying positive and purposeful! So no words to make you mad from me today – just a great recommendation to watch all the Shakespeare productions that are on the BBC i-player for free! If that’s your thing of course…if not I’m sure you have a similar secret passion.
Getting knee-deep in your passions sounds grand!
The view is different in Philadelphia, USA. Especially after VIRUS visited our wee household. Now, I go though Lockdown guilt free and thankful that none of us got to the ventilator stage. Though “er indoors” was close. She got it from yours truly after yours truly went to a punk rock show on Friday the Thirteenth March last. Nearly everybody got sick and it didn’t make the news. Too many shootings! So mere Lockdown doesn’t bother me too much. This week I am planning on buying a new bandana at Walmart because my red cowboy one is getting re-infected. All those damn anti-bodies or whatever. I never though I’d enjoy a trip to Walmart!
How brilliant to hear from you, JR, but so sorry to hear that the damned virus found it’s way to your place. I’ve warned you about punk rock… Seriously, it’s such a shame that a gig would have such a ripple effect, but thank god you and ‘er indoors survived to fight another day. Will this experience put you off going to dank, sweaty gigs I wonder? Hope not. Meantime, stick with the bandanas, and the band t-shirts. And yeah, lockdown is a mere inconvenience when it all comes down.
Categories
Archives
About WORD UP Communications
I am Mairi Damer, founder of WORD UP Communications - words are what I do best.
As a former BBC Radio Scotland producer, broadcast journalist, and expert in spoken, written or on-air communications, I have a good way with words.
More >
Spread The Word
For forthcoming workshops and to see what we’re up to, sign up for our Spread the Word newsletter
Check out our own unique content. The Last Word blog - wordy rappinghood straight from the soul of small biz