As we approach the anniversary of the first lockdown, Boris has cautiously announced that ‘normality’ should return to us on the 21st of June. When this news came out, my phone was instantly flooded with a dozen excited and hopeful messages at the thought of a long lost night at Lola’s or a sunny trip abroad. As the twittersphere jumped with joy and Boris took a bit too much of the credit, I was frozen in my seat feeling like I’d spiralled right back to square one.

Don’t get me wrong, I will not miss the endless Zoom calls or depressing press conferences. Lockdown is not a state of being I ever want to go back to. But it is a state of being I’ve had to become very used to, and now I can’t imagine life without it.

“It is a state of being I’ve had to become very used to, and now I can’t imagine life without it”

Anyone who knows me will agree that I have always been an extrovert in the most irritating way: I’m loud, all my energy is fuelled by social interactions, and I can talk to a brick wall until even it gets sick of my voice. I also hate technology, so none of my natural characteristics are particularly suited to a locked down world. However, like everyone else in this miserable year, I had to learn to adapt and make the most of every day as it came. I tried and failed to do this for the first few months of the pandemic, constantly struggling with the thought of not knowing when I’d see my loved ones again. I did little to no work and instead filled my days with online theatre, relentless quizzes and boy drama just to get a sense of the buzz of life that usually keeps my hyperactive brain going. However, all of that was on a screen, so I was still on my own for a lot of the time. I had to learn to live with my own thoughts and bring out the introvert in me just to power through day to day.

I genuinely thought I was doing okay, until I joined a small outdoor gathering of people I didn’t know very well, and I suddenly had to be back to my old self. I switched on my social brain, stuck a smile on my face and remembered that normal people don’t break into show tunes mid sentence when in public. Despite having a really lovely time, on the train home my eyes suddenly went red and I sunk down in my seat, completely and utterly drained. I’ve been thrown into rogue social situations my whole life and after ten years of boarding school, I never thought being around people could exhaust me quite like it did that day. However, something inside me had shifted. I was now hardwired for video calls I could leave or mute myself in, not the performative faff of real social interaction.

This feeling that I was being thrown into something I just wasn’t ready for came back on the day of Boris’ announcement. I have spent the last six months in Cambridge due to overseas travel restrictions, which is by far the longest time I’ve ever spent in one country, let alone one city. I have been living in quite a stable environment and as a result am using this time to work through a lot of mental health issues that I have buried down deep for many years. For the sake of being candid, this has involved several hours of counselling, support groups, and GP calls that have made me more vulnerable than ever before in an effort to help myself grow in the long run. For the first time, my day to day life is balanced enough that I can work through issues I’ve long ignored without having to worry about external triggers or sudden changes.

“It’s okay not to be overwhelmed with excitement at the thought of life restarting in June. It’s okay to just feel overwhelmed.”

Being in this vulnerable state has meant that the thought of uprooting my very quiet way of life and putting my armour back on is completely terrifying. Objectively, of course I’m desperate to hug my friends, see my family after half a year, or sit in a packed theatre. Despite all of this however, the little voice inside my head keeps begging my lockdown self care bubble to ride its wave for just a little longer. The truth is that the world will kick itself back into gear whether I want it to or not, so I just have to make sure my bubble doesn’t pop on the way there. I haven’t figured out what the future holds, I just know it won’t be easy.

I’ve written all of this to remind you that it’s okay not to be overwhelmed with excitement at the thought of life restarting in June. It’s okay to just feel overwhelmed. We have spent a year of our lives trying to cope with every obstacle this virus has thrown at us, and going back to our original state is just another bridge to cross. Take a breath and take your time, the outside world will still be there when you’re ready for it.