Of learning to reach out and log off

When I came across this Tweet, Adelaide and South Australia were in the lucky position of having the lowest level of restrictions in mainland Australia.

(Note: I wrote a blog post previously about some of the reasons why an HDR student might find Twitter useful.) So when I was asked by a few interstate friends, as well as family and friends from overseas, how I was going with the news of a snap lockdown, my first response was, “I’m processing”. As a student of psychology, here is a quick list of lockdown tips I’ve collected from some of my peers:

  • Oxytocin: the love hormone. Do something kind for someone else. One of my neighbours walked past my street and dropped off a home-made posy from their garden. 
  • Endorphin: the painkiller. Exercise of course but there’s also laughter. Watch a comedy, ring a friend and have a light-hearted chat.
  • Serotonin: the mood stabiliser. I’d say go for a bushwalk but not everyone’s within 2.5 kilometres of a forest. Meditation though is handy, as well as simple breathing exercises. 
  • Dopamine: the reward chemical. Lots of self-care activities would fall under this one such as yoga, enjoying a warm bath and good-quality sleep, but completing tasks also helps. 

 

To be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t mind locking down completely and emerging with a fully-formed thesis, completely ready for submission. I’ve enjoyed several months of going into the office, seeing peers, but also have relished catching up with friends face-to-face. I am looking forward to some quiet time. I have all my data and now the task at hand is to accomplish some serious analysis and earnest thesis-writing. I know it’s really challenging at the moment with my candidature, but I remind myself that I will miss this special time of just focusing on my own research interest.

Having said all of that, knowing that I’m unable to travel more than 2.5 kilometres from my house to see friends, to go for bushwalks, to go for a wintry ocean swim, feels a bit unnerving. In spite of that, I find myself oddly enthusiastic and relieved that these restrictions leave me with less excuses to get on with my writing. I’m not indifferent to the suffering this is causing other individuals and businesses (I myself have been unable to see family since borders have been shut in 2020), but I try and focus on what I need to do now, while waiting and hoping for the day to come when the borders re-open again and I can see my family. As a single person, I’ve found that video calls with friends and voice messages have been really helpful in making me feel connected to others. Social media and technology have made this possible. Still, I have to be conscious of the amount and quality of news I consume but also to remain mindful of the people I reach out to. 

These are challenging times; lockdowns, a persisting pandemic, tense political debates and so on. We’re all going through different challenges. Instead of judging, I remind myself to be curious. Also, it’s okay to maintain your boundaries. Not everyone deserves to hear your story whether it’s a story of struggle or a story of triumph. We reach out to our safe people and when there are those who criticise without empathy, know when you need to log off.

“Our stories are not meant for everyone. Hearing them is a privilege, and we should always ask ourselves this before we share: ‘Who has earned the right to hear my story?’ If we have one or two people in our lives who can sit with us and hold space for our  stories, and love us for our strengths and struggles, we are incredibly lucky. If we have a friend, or small group of friends, or family who embraces our imperfections, vulnerabilities, and power, and fills us with a sense of belonging, we are incredibly lucky.” Brene Brown

 

Tagged in What messes with your head, Student life, coronavirus, self-discovery