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Like millions, I've paid a 'single penalty' in lockdown – so why is no one talking about it?

Bibi Lynch has struggled with feeling lonely during the lockdown - Christopher Pledger 
Bibi Lynch has struggled with feeling lonely during the lockdown - Christopher Pledger
Coronavirus Charity Appeal - compact puff to donate page - article embed
Coronavirus Charity Appeal - compact puff to donate page - article embed

How’s your lockdown going? Socially distant walks with friends, at long last? Sobbing over Normal People with your partner by night? A Zoom Sunday lunch with your parents across town?

Mine has been spent drafting and re-drafting an email to my landlord re: a rent holiday, and deciding on names for the new voices in my head. I’m one of the 8 million people living alone in Britain — some 15 per cent of the adult population — yet while the quotidian struggles of couples and families are well-documented, for us singles, not so much.

Solo lockdown is really tough. While people on Twitter and Facebook posted of much-awaited reunions this weekend, and their frustrations at not being able to embrace those they were meeting, that’s been my reality for two months. The last hug I had was on March 9 — yes, so important I know the date. I’m on my own and feeling it. No love, no human touch. No hugs, no hand-holding. I hate this. Touch makes us feel safe, calms us and releases the ‘love hormone’ oxytocin. I miss oxytocin.

And even though we can now go out more often to exercise, and to meet a friend, I don’t really want to. That reluctance is less about fear of catching or spreading the virus; and more fear that my fury at the 2-metre violators will give me an ulcer. I’d self-medicate and up my Sertraline — if only I knew for sure I could get more.

Let me give you a breakdown — apt — of my lockdown weeks. On Mondays I do my BBC Radio Sussex and BBC Radio Surrey show, so I walk to the station and see Producer Ollie. Poor Producer Ollie is the only person I know I’ll see in the flesh all week. So poor Producer Ollie gets me talking at him for about an hour. On Tuesdays, I have therapy over Skype, so my poor Head Lady has me sobbing at her for about an hour. On Wednesdays, I have a work conference call. It’s nice to hear voices I recognise.

And then that’s it — no string of much-missed nannies and cleaners coming in, as friends posted of since lockdown eased last week, expanding their already-larger circles further still. I of course ‘see’ friends and family virtually, but I’m not their priority. Why would I be?

I’ve lived on my own most of my life and have worked from home for 26 years. But this is something different. Psychotherapist Joanna Miller explains: “Having our lives put on hold or abruptly interrupted in this way has held up a mirror to ourselves in ways we’re not used to. Our usual distractions from ourselves are not as available. We see who we are, what resources we have to fall back on, and who is important in our lives.”

You are not alone - in article puff - compact version
You are not alone - in article puff - compact version

Those of us who are alone “are in a uniquely difficult position right now,” she adds. “We are social creatures; we are programmed from birth to connect with other people — our whole biological system (brain, body and central nervous system) is hard-wired to form attachments with others. We need other people. What’s the worst punishment inflicted on people in prison? Solitary confinement."

I have tried dating online during this period, to no avail. But worse, like many, I also have the delicious stress addition of recession déjà vu to contend with. I’ve been here before: the forced isolation, and loss of everything.

The last recession ruined my life. It took my career and financial security — freelance journalists like me were suddenly expected to trade once-decent salaries for ‘exposure’, which tends not to cover the mortgage payments. Between my decimated earnings, a psycho neighbour and Dad’s terminal cancer diagnosis, it all became too much for my brain to deal with — so I sold my flat, put the profit into an account for my next deposit, but then found myself living off those funds in the absence of work. Gone, too, was my chance of having babies — I was single, too old for NHS IVF help, and my mental health took a nosedive: hello, antidepressants, and goodbye to the desperately needed therapy I could no longer afford.

This awful, terrifying, unbelievable crisis has brought every anguished feeling back — not helped by the fact being on my own like this is doing me no good. No good at all. I cry too much, sleep too much, eat too much. My anxiety is so heightened — with no-one to talk me down — I spend about an hour washing my keys, debit card, clothes, shopping and handbag if I’ve managed to make myself venture out. It feels like PTSD. It took me 10 years to build a life again. And now this?

Bibi Lynch worries what the 'New Normal' will entail for single people - Christopher Pledger 
Bibi Lynch worries what the 'New Normal' will entail for single people - Christopher Pledger

My friend Richard said the lockdown feels such a struggle because us singles get from our ‘out of home’ lives the balance we need to enjoy our ‘at home’ lives. He’s right. Now, millions of us are without it. I am. My weeks are just reminders of what I don’t have and what I won’t have. And it’s heartbreaking. Seeing FaceTime and social media posts of happy homes, families, and beautiful lives stabs me every time.

My very real fear, almost harder to get my head around than the current strain, is that things will never return to how they were. It’s too late. I’m pretty tenacious but even I have to recognise the New Normal — with its predicted crushing recession and depression — most probably won’t be too kind to a single 54-year-old freelance renter.

Joanna Miller offers hope, though: “This crisis will bring up lots of stuff for people that might be confusing and disorientating. But I would advise people to take this opportunity to go with it as much as possible: to face head-on what is happening and feel what it’s bringing up for you. Get to know yourself: write a journal, document your thoughts, start a dream diary… Try to do this with as much support as possible.

"Keep in touch with friends and family, find a counsellor, and try to keep talking. Any reaction you’re having is fine but however hard it may be at the moment, try not to go under — there are treasures to be found in these hidden depths.”

Hidden depths. I must hold onto that. No matter how hard it is.