The Covid MonTHS | BAd SAD MAd GLAD | HELEN’S STORY

I think I am still trying to make sense of the pandemic and how it has impacted me personally and professionally. The opportunity to share my experience prompted some deep reflection which was rather meandering, contradictory and confusing.  It left me a little flummoxed as to how to structure my writing, but then I remembered my very first remote teaching session that I had way back in March.

The Northern Guild responded really quickly to the challenges Covid 19 introduced, almost seamlessly moving to online provision. I remember in that first lesson my tutor, faced with a barrage of emotion, uncertainty and distress from her students, calmly suggested a framework for check in;

“ Let’s talk Mad, Bad, Sad and Glad”

I have used this structure as a way to describe my experience of lockdown and to acknowledge how, often I find myself returning to the experiential learning of class, supervision and therapy and how valuable  those recollected nuggets of wisdom are. Helping to guide me in the here and now whether with clients, personal dilemmas or professional demands.

BAD

I think in those initial weeks everything felt really frightening, this wasn’t helped by having a husband who works in the NHS. I was worried for him, each day he’d come home looking harrowed, heavy with the weight of information about the pending atrocities that were to come, as the pandemic swept through the NHS. We talked of the risk he might pose to us due to high exposure and how we might manage that. They were dark days littered with really horrible discussions about really difficult decisions, which in that moment felt  imminent.

I went into survival mode, focussing on protecting my family. I was scared for my children, for my husband, my wider family, my elderly parents. What would the impact be on them? Physically and psychologically? So many questions unanswered.  If I’m honest in those first couple of weeks that’s all my head was full of, ensuring my families needs were met. Whether that was how do I get food to my shielding parents to how do I help my nine year old son to feel socially connected?

I felt guilty,  I hadn’t had the opportunity to offer any kind of  ending to many of my clients. Some I was able to make contact with, signpost local telephone and online support services but not all. I worried about my most vulnerable clients and how the pandemic would be impacting them?

SAD

There were so many losses to be mourned; the predictable, the familiar, the known. Loss of all the usual activities, rituals, pastimes that structured my time . The familiar rhythm that marked out my daily dance of life.

Strangely I think what I missed most was best described by Winnicott as the “in- between”.

Those spaces between the pastimes, the pauses, the silences that are just as much part of the rhythm as the beat.  Those moments where my mind would have the freedom to wonder, to imagine, to create. Perhaps inspired by an audiobook or podcast whilst driving up to Newcastle, grabbing a coffee break on placement and sharing an impromptu anecdote with colleagues, a look exchanged with a classmate in a shared moment of understanding or that sudden eureka moment of attunement, a realisation of what a client is really trying to tell me, whilst thinking of them on a dog walk!

In those first months despite all the lost routine, rituals and activity I felt busier than ever, my head full to bursting. Juggling home schooling, studying, working,  I craved those moments of silent spontaneity, time to think!

I wondered for my clients, how was it for them? Knowing for some, the only structure, routine, space to think was represented by school, which had been so abruptly taken away. Did they have an escape from their chaos?

MAD

I raged against the losses, not loudly, not externally but fierce in my passivity. My DiPC 5 research assignment was painful in its writing as I became increasingly frustrated with my brains stuckness!

It just wouldn’t work, everything seemed sluggish. The things that usually came so easily felt arduous, as I wrote, rewrote, rewrote again then restarted, my cognitive brain totally offline!

I was reticent about my clinical practice too, partly acknowledging my own limitations. How could I provide a safe secure space with my own three children at home? But mainly fuelled by uncertainty and fear of the unknown.

How lucky I was to have personal therapy, supervision and the support of my tutors through this time who gradually helped me to work through these stages of grief, recognising the impact of the collective trauma of COVID.

I remember my tutor saying one night “this is a opportunity, to find new ways, different ways to reach out, to connect” and in that moment I felt my spark reignite.

My therapist a stabilising constant throughout, has helped rebuild my presence, my potency, my physis!  We’ve talked, used clay, done guided imagery all remotely and its worked. That experiential learning again, shoring my belief that it can be done and is effective.

GLAD

So I end in gratitude.

I am grateful that the extent of the pandemic and associated NHS overwhelm was less than first expected.

I am grateful for my own and my families health, I know there are many who are not as fortunate, where Covid leaves behind an indelible loss.

Although I miss many of the past familiars, some things I joyfully renounced and hope never to return to. I enjoy the slower pace, I haven’t dashed or rushed anywhere in months.

There have been many firsts, my first online lesson, baby observation, therapy session, group supervision all of which have allowed the return of some structure, some normality.

I am back working with clients remotely,  and we are finding our way,  together discovering new ways of communicating, being creative, connecting and it feels good.

Interestingly a couple of my clients have also welcomed certain aspects of lockdown, suffering from paralysing social anxiety, lockdown has been a way to press pause, to re-evaluate, find new ways of connecting with peers, composing their own new rhythm of being in relationship which we hope to carry forward as they return to school and college

To end, last week I had another first, my first job interview on Zoom! There were 53 applicants for one counselling post and I was one of 8 shortlisted and although I wasn’t offered the job, the feedback was immensely positive. It reaffirmed my belief that we are lucky, our training sets us apart. As we recover from the impact of the pandemic and find new ways to live with it and learn from it, I’ve no doubt the demand for our services will increase and I will be waiting ready to step up and I hope to see you there too.

Helen Pentelow-Boyle