6 1GT Monday November 9 2020 | the times

life

J

oan Bakewell thinks she may

have cracked the second

lockdown even though she

is 87 and lives on her own.

“I think it’s going to be much

tougher than the last time

because the virus feels

nearer,” she says. “I have

two friends in hospital with Covid —

seriously ill — so it brings it right

home. I feel I have to watch out.

But I’m being more schematic.”

As soon as she knew she would have

to self-isolate again, the broadcaster

and writer went to a bookshop.

“I cleaned the shelves of Agatha

Christie; I got the last hairdresser’s

appointment. The local café is doing

takeaways and they gave me a menu

so I can ring and order. I had a big

delivery from Ocado, so the freezer is

bulging, and I got an exercise bike.”

Nor has the Labour peer stopped

working. “I’ve got a new four-hour arts

programme for Sky Arts from home

on Sundays. The House of Lords is still

working. I follow the Wigmore Hall

concerts, the Berlin Philharmonic and

Curzon cinema so it’s all keeping me

almost too busy.”

Yet the former spokeswoman for the

elderly is feeling increasingly anxious

for her generation. “The elderly with

dementia and some people with

educational needs in care homes don’t

understand lockdown or why their

families aren’t visiting. They must be

suffering bewilderment at not knowing

what’s going on. We have to make it

easier to reach them.”

She is appalled at the apparently

inhumane way some older people are

seemingly being incarcerated. “That

tragic story of the nurse who broke the

rules to see her mother in care and

bring her home and was stopped by

the police, it’s simply not reasonable.

I would like to think if I had dementia

and was in a home my children would

break down the door to get to me.”

She has formed a bubble with her

grandson and his girlfriend for the

lockdown. Her family talk every

night, do an online quiz together on

Saturday mornings and play virtual

scrabble. “I have got better at

electronics as there is no other

way to reach out.”

Bakewell wanted to avoid going

into a home, so last year moved to

a small 1880s artist’s studio in north

London. “I have made provisions.

I live in a much smaller house with

a small bedsit for a carer for when

I can’t look after myself.”

A prolific writer, she is working on

a book to help her generation with the

ageing process. “It’s called The Tick of

Two Clocks, about how your character

and needs change as you get older,”

she says. “A lot of people get more

Q

NN

QQQ

My year started so

full of promise —

finally, in my mid-

forties, I was doing

what I truly wanted

and felt content and

blessed. My partner of five years lives

overseas. I live in the UK and this

year I would start the process of

moving to be with him. However, the

pandemic hit, my partner’s country

closed its borders and so my chances

of getting there are zero and remain

so for the foreseeable future.

Then, two weeks after that, my

beautiful mum went to hospital for a

routine chemo tablet, but was kept in

for a “routine’’ drain of fluid on her

lungs. We were told that her cancer

had spread and there was nothing

that could be done.

I was able to be with her for her

final 36 hours, but I am in shock

to have witnessed her unexpected

death. I then saw no one for the

remainder of lockdown, and since I

am a performer, my career was and

still is effectively on hold so I could

not distract myself with work.

Then, three months after Mum’s

death, my dad had a stroke, which

has left a change in his abilities and

personality. I see him most days and

can see his sadness at the loss of

Mum. It really hurts that I can’t take

that pain away for him.

I am doing all I can think of

to cope and be compassionate to

myself. I know that grief must be

processed and that this takes time. I

keep a daily routine — self-care and

exercise, I volunteer for a charity, I

am not using alcohol to numb — but

I feel so wretchedly sad and empty

and as if I have no resilience left.

I am aware that I have become

anxious again (I went through a bout

of anxiety six years ago when a

partner left me). I am also aware that

I am waiting with bated breath for

the next tragedy to happen: maybe

my partner will get fed up with

waiting for the travel ban to end,

maybe my dad will have another

stroke, or I will never work as a

performer again and my cats will

die etc. I am given to bursting into

tears. I have physical symptoms of

excessive sweating, skin flare-ups

and early rising from nightmares

and am ruminating all the time.

I feel that what would make me

feel better is a date that I knew I

could get to be with my partner, and

I think I have pinned a lot in being

able to see him again, to be cared

for and held — things that have not

happened since March. But that,

like everything, is out of my control.

I couldn’t control what happened to

my mum or dad, my ability to see my

partner, my livelihood or my future.

Marnie

A

NN

A

I am so sorry to

read how utterly

challenging and

heartbreaking 2020

has been for you.

As if the impact of the

pandemic hasn’t been hard enough,

you’ve also dealt with the loss of

your mother and the impact of a

stroke on your grieving father.

And now, having got through

lockdown 1 and having a summer of

good weather and more opportunities

for social contact, we are now at the

beginning of lockdown 2 in the colder

and darker months of the year.

It is clear that you are doing all you

can to manage the multiple losses.

Apart from the sudden and painful

loss of your mother and the onslaught

of grief, you are also having to cope

with the lost opportunity to be with

your partner, and the devastating

impact on your job and income.

As you also describe, knowing that

your father, who is incapacitated by

his stroke, is also in emotional pain

as he grieves for your mother is

heartbreaking. What you insightfully

recognise is that you are left in an

emotionally drained state, and the loss

of control of many of the fundamental

aspects of your life is taking its toll.

Surveys of the impact of lockdown 1

have shown the effect on our mental

health (Mind at bit.ly/38hkKOp). It

has been estimated that 65 per cent of

adults over 25 and 75 per cent of

young people aged 13 to 24 with an

existing mental health problem

reported worsened mental health, with

22 per cent of adults with

no experience of

poor mental ill

health reporting

that theirs was

poor or very

poor. See also

mentalhealth.org

.uk/coronavirus.

You have

previously

struggled with

I have experienced so much loss this year,

I don’t know how to cope with it all

clinical levels of anxiety and from

what you describe it is clear that you

can tell that you have now relapsed

into an unrelentingly anxious state

that — while understandable given

all you have endured — is having

a devastating impact on you.

You describe physiological

symptoms of anxiety, sleep

impairment and hypervigilance,

with constant anxious ruminations

that keep your cortisol levels high.

Therefore, not only are you grieving

and anxious about your life now,

you are also “what if-ing” about

the future. You are in a kind of

psychological brace position for the

next challenging, negative life event

that you fear will come along.

Alongside all the self-care and

wonderful volunteering that you are

doing I suggest that you also engage

with regular mental health support.

It has been reported that during

lockdown 1, one in three adults

struggling with their mental health did

not try to access support because they

did not think that their problem was

serious enough, and there was a fall in

referrals to NHS talking therapies.

Services remain open and support

can and is being offered online —

speak to your GP and you can also

self-refer (see NHS at bit.ly/3552upD;

bps.org.uk; bacp.co.uk; welldoing.org).

To manage anxiety, it is vital to

stabilise sleep — discuss this with

your GP, who may suggest medication

that could also help to bring down

the excessive psychological and

physiological anxiety levels and

make it easier to cope, which could

be a useful adjunct to talking

therapy and support.

It might be worth looking at

supplements. Some research has

shown that magnesium could help

via increasing GABA (an inhibitory

neurotransmitter that decreases

activity in the nervous system),

regulating the parasympathetic

nervous system (the “rest and digest”

system) and regulating the sleep

hormone melatonin.

I also suggest creating a night-time

wind-down routine, ie turn off screens

an hour before bed, have a relaxing

bath, read, listen to mindfulness

audio (see the apps Headspace and

Calm). Use these audios also when

you wake in the night feeling anxious.

In terms of helplines I recommend

anxiety.org and cruse.org.uk for

bereavement support and the NHS

at bit.ly/354GPxM.

This is now about working

to quieten the anxieties about

uncertainty and finding ways to

move your mind away from anxious

questions that cannot be answered.

Keeping a journal can help; write out

what you ruminate on and create a

rational and affirming narrative to

challenge those anxieties. It’s also

about finding help to process your

bereavement. Be kind to yourself and

reach out for support — you are doing

well at a very sad and challenging time

of your life. I wish you well.

If you would like Professor

Tanya Byron’s help, email

[email protected]

noexperience of

poor mental ill

health reporting

that theirs was

poor or very

poor. See also

mentalhealth.org

.uk/coronavirus.

You have

previously

struggled with

Move your

mind away

from

anxious

questions

that

cannot be

answered

Ask Professor Tanya Byron

I’m so

The broadcaster’s

rules are bad news

for its presenters,

Joan Bakewell tells

Alice Thomson and

Rachel Sylvester