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‘April is the cruellest month’ as this pandemic deepens and grips this nation by the throat every household is left with the uncertainty – how much worse can it get?

When the clock struck midnight and we entered into 2020; I could not imagine the devastation that this disease could bring. Every day I feel like I’m watching myself in a dystopian movie. On the streets I see more people wearing masks; shunning any form of communication for fear our time has come.

I couldn’t foresee I would be couped up inside my house attempting to teach remotely and homeschooling my daughter. I miss the freedom of going shopping with my sister; taking my daughter to the park or cinema. I miss the routine of going to work and meeting colleagues and students. I try to get up at the same time every day; I start work at the same time but I feel so empty (maybe I’m too institutionalised).

After suffering two bereavements in 2018 I thought it was unique to lose both parents so close together; I found it hard to go through two funerals within months of each other father then mother. Now I’m grateful that I could be with my family, extended and friends in comparison to the present arrangements. No holding the hand of loved ones; restricted numbers at the funeral; no flowers on the coffin. Agreed much cheaper than the usual over inflated prices from funeral directors – but so cold and clinical. I can’t imagine how these grieving relatives must feel – how will we deal with this mounting mental health crisis?

The investment in new hospitals and huge temporary morgues are frightening but the darkest hour is just before the day. The death rates are astonishing but eventually they will begin to fall; doors will open and we’ll step into the sunshine and we’ll appreciate our lives a little more.