On Sunday night I was woken suddenly by a violent thumping in my chest, followed by a feeling of dread twisting itself into knots in the pit of my stomach.
My first thought was that maybe I was having a heart attack (or my body was reenacting the chest-bursting scene from Alien) but thanks to a general bill of good health, and a dash of common sense, I quickly talked myself out of the idea that I needed to call 000.
As my heart continued to do the Macarena in my chest I was left with a sense of baffling confusion as to why I was shaking, instead of sleeping.
I am not an anxious person by nature, so why now, when I was perfectly safe and tucked away in my locked apartment, was the darkness making me feel like I was stuck in a lift with doors that never opened.
Looking back on that night, as a single person living alone through Sydney’s current COVID-19 lockdown, I know now that it had taken a moment of unconscious panic for my body to acknowledge the thoughts that my mind had been brushing aside during the more forgiving hours of daylight.
To acknowledge the dragging heaviness that comes with essentially having to survive lockdown alone, knowing that the world is still somewhat spinning around you, and your friends and family are now behind doors where you can no longer be welcomed.
Knowing that thanks to your own circumstances, and the necessary restrictions that come with each new flare-up of the pandemic, you are the playing piece that is seen to be most easily removed from the game board.
It should go without saying at this stage, with the possible exemption of the team who founded Zoom, that no one is a winner when it comes to living through COVID-19.
But if, like me, you went against everything the rom-coms of our youth warned us against and are currently single and living alone in Sydney, you might be feeling like the road you've been asked to walk is particularly tough.
Like no real allowances have been made to help ease the way.