There’s No Place Like Home – Life in Lockdown

For me, turning eighteen came with a mild bout of early quarter life crisis, a legal ID that I regrettably am still yet to be asked for (having spent months excited by the prospect of proving my age in a sort of triumphant way as if I’d achieved something spectacular) and a great longing to get out into the world.

I doubt that the latter comes as a surprise to anyone who has ever met an eighteen year old, but for me turning eighteen meant ‘freedom’

It meant the move to university was less than a year away. Soon enough I’d be on the M62 driving towards a whole new world of possibilities and opportunities. It sounds cliche but bear with me, because for a girl from a small (in mind and size) North East town, that vision was what kept me going. 

Life Before Lockdown

I had it all planned out. A move to the city of Manchester in the upcoming September would be the perfect shift from a sweet but unimaginative area where everyone knows each other but nobody talks to anyone. Three years at an amazing journalism school would follow. I’d spend my time learning and training with like-minded talented individuals. 

Then, the world would be my oyster. 

I was thirteen when I decided I wanted to be a journalist, and the day I turned eighteen that dream was just as real but brighter and more paramount than anyone around me could really understand.

The prospect of moving away from home was ever closer that day as I sat in work at my stage door desk, obnoxious birthday balloons behind me and a whole lot of ambition and faraway thoughts, accompanied by the punchy tune of ‘Baby Shark’ closing the second pantomime show of the day. It meant the hours spent here – a local theatre once famed for its royal opening ceremony 53 years ago and forgotten about soon after – despite my genuine adoration of the unremarkable building, would be worth it. 

 

“I was thirteen when I decided I wanted to be a journalist, and the day I turned eighteen that dream was just as real but brighter and more paramount than anyone around me could really understand.”

 

Soon, I’d be phoning home with an abundance of stories to impress grandparents (“believe it or not Nana, there is more than one Tesco”) and a brand new awareness of ‘adult life’.

Then, Everything Changed…

 

It all happened so quickly. A-Levels were cancelled. The little theatre closed its doors. No gyms. No pubs or clubs. Lockdown. 1,000. 5,000. 10,000. 30,000. It soon became more than I could comprehend. Now, eight weeks later, the fact that I will not be sitting exams this year has still not sunk in.

One thing I do know: Dorothy was right. There is no place like home. 

A lot of us are spending more time at home right now than we could have ever imagined. My mum is high risk, which means since the days before lockdown I have left the house only a handful of times to find some slight escape with a walk. Now that she is shielding, the prospect of staying in until 15 June at the earliest does not seem as daunting as it would have only weeks ago. 

This is all still confusing; I have never felt so disorientated. The one certain thing in all of this is that home really is where the heart is. 

 

“One thing I do know: Dorothy was right. There is no place like home.”

 

Spending so much time with my family in an enclosed space has had its challenges. That was natural. Now we are, without a doubt, closer than ever before and not just in terms of distance. The things I look forward to now are no longer a night out in town or a session at the gym. Instead, morning baking with my little sister, a clumsy game of basketball in the back garden with my whole family, a family quiz night spent on zoom and a seemingly eternal wait for a cuddle from my grandparents.

               

What we know to be true, our thoughts and feelings, and our lives have suddenly become incomplete. Incomplete yet all so precious.

My tiny village has never felt so safe or so loving. Bar shifts at the theatre have never felt like such a luxury. I appreciate the beauty of my home. The people here, in my welcoming, small North East borough will always have my heart and soul. I realise that now.

 

So when we find out the lockdown is lifted; when we hear no more deaths announced; when we’re allowed to hug our loved ones, leaving home is going to be hard.

Jessica Sharkey

Follow @jessmsharkey

Featured image courtesy of Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash. This image has in no way been altered. Image license is available here.