THE BIG ISSUE

DJ, radio presenter and Attitude columnist James Barr on living with depression during self- isolation

Dealing with depression in isolation

I’ m in lockdown, living with depression, and my house plant Big Ken is dying a slow death from a lack of care. I can barely look after myself, so Ken didn’t stand a chance. But don’t feel sorry for me ( or Ken), because this is my truth and I’m OK with it – well, today I am. Tomorrow might be diff erent, because, to be honest, mental health makes no sense.

At fi rst, I was loving isolation. The world seemed a little easier. I could work from home, I didn’t have to slay my outfi t choices every day and I could basically avoid all social contact without needing to make lame excuses.

Previously, in my darkest moments, I’d lost so much confi dence I’d cancel trips with friends last minute. I’d be too anxious to go outside and I’d go to bed hoping that I’d either wake up in the morning as a diff erent person, or that I wouldn’t wake up at all. The only way I felt safe was to stay at home.

To put it simply, depression feels like a kind of lockdown, and my battle with mental health had prepared me for our new normal. Except this time everyone else is at home, too, and they’re all doing it better than I am.

I’ve always had issues comparing myself to other gays on social media, but it’s suddenly become even more triggering with the overwhelming amount of # content from TikTok, lip- sync gays, banana- bread gays and bleached- hair- crisis gays. ( Side note, I’m seriously considering joining the latter tribe.) Why is everyone else ‘ thriving’ while I’m sat here not working on a new me, eating my way through a stockpile of Pom- Bears and absorbing the news like a dementor?!

I’ve found the internet so loud lately that I’ve been swerving messages from mates. I’ve ignored group chats, RuPaul viewing parties and even a Zoom invitation for naked Dragrobics set to Eurovision songs exclusively from the years 2000- 2010. The world feels way too overwhelming and my isolation is starting to make me feel invisible. Everything is so triggering right now that it reminds me of Kelly Clarkson’s It’s Quiet Uptown. The Hamilton cover features an astounding lyric about mental health: There are moments when you’re in so deep/ It feels easier to just swim down.

I can relate.

If you’re experiencing a low mood right now, I want you to know that it’s actually very normal to not feel OK. Especially in times like these. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. It’s just important to check in with ourselves as often as we can, to identify any negative thoughts and concerns we’re having and, as much as possible, tell them to fuck off .

I’ve recently been recording a documentary about HIV and Aids, and although I can only imagine the suff ering at the time, it’s clear that the horror of this epidemic led to an inspiring uprising of community, spirit and pride across an entire generation of LGBTQ people who fought back against the ignorance and injustice of society and government.

Queer power. It’s this thought that is now inspiring me to swim up. It’s my hope that the pandemic we’re currently facing will lead to a similar future for humanity as a whole.

It’s happening already – the quiet, deserted cities and ‘ end- of- the- world’ photos on social media aren’t an apocalypse; it’s the biggest demonstration of love we’ve seen in our lifetime. Staying indoors and stopping the spread is a huge aff irmation of love for our friends, family and people we’ve never met.

I’m trying to think of this as a reboot, and when we’ve taken a second to restart we’ll load back up as The

Gays ™ 2.0. Until then, I plan to carry on binging on Netfl ix until it asks me if I’m still watching. Yes, Karen, I am.

“If you’re experiencing a low mood right now, I want you to know that it’s very normal to not feel OK”