The Big Comeback

When I was younger I was ill. Not a mild cold, or measles or even man flu. A bottle of Lucozade was not going to sort this. It was the kind of ill where you take a break from your life for a year in the hope that, after all the treatments, you’ll have a life to come back to.
I distinctly remember the coming back.
One problem with taking a break from your life is that it becomes the new normal. As you relax into operating mainly from home and having fewer social responsibilities, you slowly forget what it was like to go out, to meet people. Right now, I struggle to remember the commute, or what it feels like to be stuck in a traffic jam.
When I rejoined society, it was at a gig in Camden. Heather Nova, at Jongleurs. I met a friend there, who was keen to go because she thought there might be music execs there scouting for talent.
I loved Heather Nova. Talented and beautiful, a voice like no other, and ethereal and evocative songs that seemed to have been written only for me.
I barely noticed them.
The place was probably not that crowded. To me, it felt like I was hemmed in on every side. Every face seemed ferocious and my fight or flight needle was jammed all the way on the side of flight.
When I was ill, everyone told me to watch out for my mental health. People were looking out for me all the time worried that everything would begin to get too much.
What no-one realised was that the real struggle begins when everything goes back to normal. When everyone stops looking out for you and expects you to go back to your normal life as though nothing had happened.
Although it doesn’t feel like it, the Coronavirus epidemic won’t go on forever. Already, we’re beginning to see the tentative glow of a sunrise over the horizon.
Don’t forget that this will present our greatest challenge yet.
Life.