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August 16, 2020

Diary of a Mental Health Worker on the Pandemic frontline

As I lay my head on my pillow, I feel the weight, the global burden settle heavily on me. The daily heaviness of 1000 worries and a 1000 tears, a 1000 anxious words, a 1000 future oriented fears. I try hard to let go of my long and arduous day, to shake it off, stay in the moment,  just be, to lay. Rest my weary head, be calm, still, in the safety of my bed. But its so hard when these days, feel all the same and are here to stay.

On and on it goes, each day I feel the drain. No relief, no reprieve, nothing but Covid to blame. Where does their anxiety end and mine begin? It’s so hard to reassure others when that line is blurred and so thin. I can’t make it better or make it go away. Fear, sadness, anger, addiction, loneliness, disconnection and isolation. Endless despair, frustration. The Collective consciousness of anxiety. No where to go, no destination. This is the legacy of this virus, it is devouring every nation. This is the pandemic creation.

 

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