A crash course in learning how to live with myself
Bella Sträuli traces the highs and lows of living alone in lockdown.
According to the Australian Psychology Network 1 in 4 adults ‘felt lonely’ in 2020. This statistic doesn’t really encompass the fact that lockdown and isolation have introduced new challenges to social isolation, loneliness and mental health.
When I first moved to Sydney from Melbourne earlier this year, I didn’t quite factor in the fact that living alone in a new incredibly exciting city would mean staring at the same four walls for months on end (again).
In the recent weeks, I’ve gone through all the ‘lockdown phases’; attempting new hobbies; being productive; getting fit; baking; losing motivation; and finally developing a crippling addiction to TV. I’ve traversed all the stages of grief: denial, anger, sadness, acceptance, extreme pity (and so on).
All circumstances considered, I thought I was doing quite well… until someone recently texted me: “Have you had a face to face chat with anyone in the last 6 weeks!?”
Define “face to face”. Define “chat”. Define “anyone”. It stumped me. I thought I had learnt how to live with myself but it begs the question: what are the repercussions for me when this lockdown is over?
Reflecting on the ‘socialising’ I have done in the last however-many weeks there isn’t much to report on outside of my grand grocery expeditions. Some texting, video chatting, the usual social media interactions and a single dinner with a friend when the ‘single bubble’ was announced. This ‘single bubble’ excitement was short-lived and promptly ended when I had a COVID case scare in the area near me. Nothing sobers you up faster.
Image: Sydney enters month two lockdown - but really, who's counting?
I guess living alone has had a bigger effect on me than I’ve been willing to admit. I don’t know whether my transition from texting to voice notes is because of pure, unadulterated laziness or because otherwise I wouldn’t speak to anyone all day long. It isn’t that I like the sound of my own voice (which I do) but voicenoting has more to do with the fact that I want to remember how to engage in conversation. Maybe it’s because conversation and everything that comes with it is what makes us human.
Without disregarding the importance of lockdowns and restrictions (which I recognise as a necessary precaution), the prolonged time away from people makes me increasingly concerned that I’m losing vital social connections. In virtual group video chats I’ve noticed my mannerisms slipping. I interrupt, I zone out and I talk at a million miles per hour. Is that my fault? It’s like I’m trying to cram every little idea, thought, action and crumb into this conversation because I don’t know when the next one will come.
Research suggests that I’m not alone here. Social distancing and lockdowns can have a negative effect on how we perceive other humans like fueling feelings of suspicion and wariness around others. Lockdowns also make us more distracted and can generally damage our cognitive function or change our personalities.
Uni starting up full-speed excites me, as I can practice Conversation Basics 101, but the fact that my socialisation skills might just not be there yet also terrifies me (I also may or may not have worn a suit jacket to my first class because I was so excited, the bar is very low).
What will it mean now that I’m forced to interact with more humans virtually in one week than I have in the last eight? Is there a special consideration for “I live alone and I don’t know how to talk to another human”?
Image: A message I received from a friend reading “I think we can safely put it down to the fact thiat this through the phone conversation is the most human interaction that you’ve had in week haha”
Boredom has driven me to fast-track through the phases of the pandemic. I have just recently gotten to the “bleach and cut your own hair” phase of the lockdown and for the most part I’ve been grateful that no one is around to see the results. But then again, there’s a part of me that wants someone to see it and say “Damn! How did you mess that up so badly?” to which I would reply “I know, I know, I guess I should have just waited and gone to a hairdresser when this is all over. Oh well... that’s life”. But there’s none of that.
I know that in the long run, I’ll be socialising again like normal, and there will come a day when all of this is possible. For now, there’s just me, sitting on my sofa alone, with half bleached blonde hair, worrying about how to socialise when this is all over and a burning desire to have a drink with a friend at a pub.
Take care of yourself and check in on your friends. And please, for goodness sake, check in on your friends that live alone. Don’t let them get to the bleach stage. There’s hope for some of us yet.
Everyone has experienced lockdowns in different ways and the prolonged lockdown can be tough on mental health. Remember, if you or anyone you know needs help here are some mental health hotlines you can contact:
Lifeline on 13 11 14
Kids Helpline on 1800 551 800
MensLine Australia on 1300 789 978
Suicide Call Back Service on 1300 659 467
Beyond Blue on 1300 224 636
Butterfly Foundation on 1800 33 4673
Headspace on 1800 650 890
ReachOut at au.reachout.com