By now you’ve probably read the stories of a divided Melbourne, or a united one, depending on which side of politics you lean to.
You’ve heard how hard it’s been for the citizens of Melbourne, and the businesses, and the front-line workers. What you may not have heard yet, but I feel a burning desire to tell you all living in our sister states and territories, is the deep state of anxiety we face now and in the coming months here in Melbourne.
You’ve all seen the roadmap too - the ‘roadmap to nowhere’. But the roadmap to most of us is a slow and safe tunnel to a semi-normal existence. Regardless of what stance we have as individuals and essentially what rate of mortality we accept from the coronavirus, anxiety is pulsing through our veins, keeping our hearts racing and our heads full of somewhat toxic streams of consciousness.
Watch: When Daniel Andrews extended lockdown. Post continues below.
You see, we have been isolated for months on different scales, from our friends, our families, our jobs and our lives. Everything has been put on hold, and by this eleventh week of Stage 4 lockdown, I have simply given up on anything except for the hope it doesn’t happen again.
This year was meant to be something different for me. I was going to get married. My business was going to take off after three months of operating. I was meant to spend more time with the ones I love but it’s all been taken away. And for some, as we know, it’s been so much worse than that.
Being surrounded by job loss and death tolls every day, the dread of daily conferences and the slew of all types of misinformation that follows has gotten to me and to most people I know. If I see someone breaking restrictions I bubble over almost instantly with anger and resentment. If I see lockdown protesters I panic almost immediately.
But what I’m most scared of is that the resentment and anxiety I’ve been holding onto isn’t going to dissipate. And yes, those feelings extend all the way to you, in other states too.
Because while you’ve been holidaying again, seeing friends and family, celebrating love and life and happiness, I’ve been watching from the silence of my four walls. I watch your stories and wince at the bullshit of it all.
I wince every time one of you says anything remotely political about our city without any facts or education. I wince mostly when the phone rings from one of you, or even more when it doesn’t. Because if you call I have nothing to talk about and I am sad and you won’t really ever get it.