The Covid cling on

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.