An emotional response to the feeling of helplessness during the Covid 19 crisis.
Born from the hypersensitive state I seemed to exist in , when emotions ran high, when fears were at there greatest, when lockdown physically isolated us from our family and friends. It emerged as empathy for women in danger trapped in their homes with physical and mental abuser.
12 women 1 man and 2 children died from abuse in their homes in the first three weeks of the lockdown, when the government hadn’t provided funding to help those desperate and in need of escape from their tormentors.
Actions have consequences, to loose a life due to the lack of forethought and planning for these victims is unforgivable. Refusing to acknowledge bad planning, excusing their actions from blame by saying the perpetrators are only to blame, is a truly low blow.
I fear water, particularly the sea. I almost drowned when I was about 13 years old while learning to swim in Liverpool University baths. An Olympic sized pool, I veered off in to the and when I realised I was out of my depth. I panicked as I went up and down several time’s gasping for breath shouting for help, only managing “He” from the word “Help” before submerging several time’s. Thankfully I was rescued by a classmate, it was never the same, my confidence shattered, it scarred me and left a long lasting fear of water. To paint such a fear, the realism, the emotion, the helplessness is heart felt and wounding. I would love to swim confidently in the sea, I continue to build up my stamina to do so, challenging myself to swim many lengths of the pool, with the hope of one day I’ll be relaxing and swimming in warm waters, at my favourite place, just off the coast of Greece.
