Moving around with trepidation.
With Covid19 throwing me completely off track I've been hesitant to make any changes. Living in a high risk household meant we shut down earlier and for longer than most households. It's been a terrifying time and nothing seems to be changing. We still clean anything which comes into the house, we wear ppe because our lives literally depend on it. In the midst of all of this I'm supposed to be doing amazing things like making banana bread, or taking up a new hobby. I can't even get out of bed most days. My normal artist practice went out the window in March, and I'm struggling to find room in my head for creativity.
It's exhausting managing a complex household of disabilities which jangle up against each other on an hourly basis. Quarantine meant we were trapped within our ever spiralling moods. No outside influences to distract us from the cacophony of noise and memories vying for attention. No trips to the seaside for inspiration, or much needed perspective.
Just when lockdown settled into a much needed routine in this neurodiverse house, national rules are relaxed but the threat is still there.
Ever present in the breeze that's no longer refreshing.