Thoughts From Inside Melbourne’s Lockdown
The first lockdown in March had a different feel to it. Everyone was battening down their hatches, so to speak, and preparing for what we assumed would be a few weeks of inconvenience to be rid of this virus.
Fast forward almost five months and our state in a worse position than we ever thought was possible. “A State of Disaster” was announced by the Victorian Government on Sunday and we’re now smack bang in the middle of what feels like a dystopian Hollywood movie. The Army is patrolling our city, enforcing new rules and a curfew. No one could have seen this coming.
In Melbourne, we had a brief reprieve in June. We really did think things were looking better. We could meet our friends for brunch on the weekend, or split a pizza and bottle of wine in a restaurant. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. But things didn’t get better, they got worse. So much worse.
There’s a different feeling to this lockdown. There’s less feeling of connection, the collective “we’re all in this together” seems to have dissipated. Because we’re not.
Most of the country is living semblances of normal lives. They joked, created memes and berated us for getting it wrong. And look, we don’t blame them. If we were in the same situation, there’s every chance that we would do the same thing.
It’s hard to be in this city right now. This city that we love (and talk about to anyone who will listen — did you know that Melbourne is the world’s most livable city?). The uncertainty has taken a collective toll on our mental health. We all want this lockdown, we know that we need it. But it’s deflating. We’re isolated from our friends and family in other states, or even ones that live outside the city. There’s only so much Netflix someone can watch before we prefer silence.
We’re also grieving. We’re grieving the births, weddings, funerals and birthdays we’ve all missed. We’re grieving 2020. Because it’s likely we won’t be back to “normal” before the end of the year. It seems trivial to be grieving events that seem so frivolous, but what we’re actually grieving is our previous lives.
Almost everyone in the city knows someone who has been tested or have been themselves. Some of us have friends and family that have contracted the virus. And more sadly, some of us have lost family and friends.
It’s a lot to deal with. So please, send us prayers or good vibes. Think of us over the next six weeks. We’re all just trying to survive right now. We need all the nice thoughts we can get. We’re a city holding it’s breath.
Photo courtesy of the Herald Sun.
