Lockdown 2, imposter syndrome and feeling stuck

The monotony is what gets me. Every day’s the same. I wake up, have a coffee and stumble blurry-eyed through social media, viewing what often seems like a never-ending stream of achievement (punctuated with the occasional rant about THE FAKE NEWS MEDIA from you-know-who). ‘Everyone’s doing better than me’, I tell myself — ‘why can’t you cope with lockdown like other people and just fucking get on with it?’

I’ll make it to my desk some time between eight and nine, second coffee in hand, and start writing. When I have something to write, I’m fine, but when it comes to thinking of ideas, pitching stories, trying to land commissions — playing the freelancer game, essentially— I can’t seem to get going.

I tell myself I should be fortunate to be healthy and actually have work coming in, but I can’t help focusing on what I haven’t got. I spend too much time thinking about what other people are doing, and as a result I forget to concentrate on myself and my own career. You are a real journalist, I have to keep telling myself, as it can sometimes get a little too tempting to throw myself into a job where imposter syndrome isn’t so prevalent. (Not working at Primark though. Never again.)

It’s not only lockdown — I’m trying to adjust to post-graduate life too. I no longer have the support network I did, and I’m now literally living on my own for the first time in my life. Whereas a year ago I could look forward to going to the pub after a long day, there’s no such carrot to get me through the day now. Beans on toast and a couple of hours spent playing Football Manager before bed, lost in an alternate reality, is the best it’s gonna get. I didn’t think I’d miss constantly being skint, eating pasta straight from the saucepan, and those 9am latte-and-rollie-fuelled lectures, but it turns out I do.

For me, lockdown is never going to be a beautiful voyage of self-discovery, banana bread and kale smoothies, but it would be nice to feel content and not have imposter syndrome breaking the door down for at least a little while. I accept that a lockdown is needed, and I’m happy to do my part, but I’m starting to feel like I’m stuck.