Losing my sense of purpose amid the ongoing pandemic

by Sam Moqadam from unsplash

When the UK first went into lockdown in March last year, it was a surreal and fearful experience. With hopes that it would only last a few weeks, the consistent surge in positive cases and deaths begged to differ.

It took well into the latter half of May for the lockdown rules to ease and for us to return to a sense of normalcy. With the optimistic decrease of coronavirus cases becoming almost minimal, we thought we could go back to our lives by the end of the year.

Looking back now from the beginning of a new year, and experiencing the country’s third lockdown and a worse second peak, the fight to get back to normal looks bleaker than ever.

Vaccine rollouts provided a sense of hope, but now we are faced with new Covid variants that may weaken the impact of inoculation.

The prolonged struggle is only making the light at the end of the tunnel seem further, and further away.

The relief we felt in keeping the vulnerable people in our communities safe before turned into disbelief at the news of their deaths now.

It seemed that every passing day there was additional news of reasons to fall into a spell of depression.

This is the first time during the pandemic where I found myself losing a sense of hope.

I realised that the things that once gave me joy left me unbothered, despite my continuous effort to engage with them.

I find myself taking long walks in the evenings and still being shocked at the scarcity of people on roads that were usually busy.

But at the same time, when I imagine how crowded the roads used to be I feel an impulse of anxiety course through my body, thinking how strange that would be to witness now, too. It seems as though I’m stuck in limbo, unable to accept both realities.

When I studied history in school I used to be in awe of the people who lived through historical moments. I used to think, “ah, it must’ve been so rewarding to overcome such a struggle,” with a tone of envy.

Looking back now as I live within a page from the history textbooks that are yet to be published, I can admit how naive it was to think such a thing.

As the heavy winds of adversity shake me to my core I am faced with a loss of direction in what to do. The joy that once used to guide me feels like the last echo from a sound that ceased long ago.

To be challenged with a circumstance that demands the continuous delay of relief proves harder to accomplish with crumbs of happiness.

And yet, despite it all, I know that everything is temporary.