Hearing Loss and Lockdown 3

 

For years before I got help with my hearing, I spent time guessing what someone was saying to me.  Teaching was extremely stressful. I was unaware that I needed hearing aids until I had the leisure of early retirement to examine all the stressors in my life. I am feeling that again but without the support system I enjoyed when Eamonn was with me.

Social distancing, face masks, self-isolation have all become household words in the last few months and we have all been coping as well as we can. But now I am without my hearing aids and do not know how long it will take to repair them. 

If you live with hearing loss, and before COVID-19, you  naturally lean in to hear what is being said, you  look closely at someone’s lips and then carefully piece together the words. Speaking to someone from two metres away, with a face covering (which not only disrupts lip-reading but also muffles the voice) makes day-to-day interactions even more stressful. 

It is not just physical face-to-face interactions where there are difficulties but the new normal, we are finding ourselves in. Socialising and working from home often involve video calls but the accessibility of these can be well behind the rest of video technology and can result in some dubious captioning or you can only access subtitles if you pay an additional premium. Trying to follow conversations as soon as there is more than one person on a video call can be difficult for those with normal hearing, for those with a hearing loss it’s easy to just withdraw and not contribute. I've already cancelled mu Ukulele Zoom sessions with my LALG group. Even the newly-found Good Grief Project 's Virtual Cafe meetings are not viable without my hearing.

I have been waiting for my depression to spring up on me during this weird and turbulent time and this week it finally has. The feeling of things being out of my control and being unable to escape a situation can make me feel quite anxious and depressed anyway, and I think the weight of this pandemic,  and how much my life has changed since Eamonn died has suddenly hit.

I have been told, time and time again, how well I am coping - I am a coper. Unfortunately, I am also a control freak. During the past year I have worked on 'projects' that I could control; the garden, growing fruit and veg, carrying out repairs and renovations needed in the house, replacing the boat with a Romahome. There is little left to do. I'm not one for sitting still and relaxing. I'm a do'er, a coper, an organiser. Without my ears, I cannot do many of the things that break the boredom and limitations of Lockdown. 

I'm beginning to turn into a cow. I ruminate on things I cannot change. I'm stuck in a rut of grief and regret and fear. The slightest ache or twinge and I'm convinced I am seriously ill. This is anxiety and depression. This I know - and it scares me. GPs are overwhelmed by the pandemic. I'm just another casualty of the mental health crisis. 

We are all in the same storm but not the same boat.