I can’t be the only one who’s dreading socialising

Hurrah! The end is in sight. We now have a roadmap out of lockdown and of course I, along with everyone else, am sighing with relief. Summer might just be saved. The old normal — or at least a version of it — is on the horizon. But after all the celebration and jubilation at the announcement last week, I confess I now feel a teeny-weeny bit reticent.

While I have loathed the past year, with the limitations to our freedom and the profound impact it has had on our economy, not to mention the health and wellbeing of so many, I’d be lying if I said there hadn’t been some positives.

It took the prospect of this all ending for me to realise I’d actually become quite used to the new way of life we’ve had to adopt over the past year. Before Covid hit, I would be out most nights, often with several plans on the go at the same time.

Drinks here, dinner there, I’d charge about, cramming people in. My life was hectic. Weeks sped past in a haze of meetings and dinners and outings. It was tons of fun, but it was also exhausting.

and when it came to weekends? They’d be booked up months in advance.

It took me a while to adjust to this new, slower way of life but, now I have, there’s part of me that doesn’t want to go back to how it was. I like being able to rest in the evenings and not feel guilty if I do nothing.

I’ve got used to spending time on my own, enjoying my own company. I’ve realised I enjoy reading as much (perhaps more?) as raucous nights out.

I’ve started appreciating homely things. I’ve saved money by not eating out and don’t really miss it any more — something I never thought I’d say.

Of course, when things do start to open up, I could just stay home. I could simply adopt this slower life permanently and refuse to socialise at all. at the moment, that feels tempting.

and I’m not the only one. Several friends and even patients have confided in me that while, on one level, they can’t wait for lockdown to end, there’s part of them that will be a little sad.

They’ve got used to having minimal commitments, to having no plans and their time being entirely their own. There’s something calming about having vistas of empty time stretching out ahead of you and not feeling the need to cram your time with things that you are often doing more out of obligation than genuine desire.

While the pandemic has been so tough on so many people’s mental health, some of my patients — especially those with social anxiety — have admitted that the past year has been a blessing.

While they’ve struggled with reductions to mental health services or things such as therapy being put on hold, the silver lining to this all is that they haven’t felt the constant dread of having to socialise.

Even those of us who don’t have full-blown social anxiety feel apprehensive about suddenly being plunged into company after such a long time without mixing. It’s normal to feel a bit self-conscious and shy after being isolated for so long and it’s probably not helped by the fact no one looks their best at the moment. Many people haven’t seen friends since the beginning of the pandemic and perhaps they haven’t really missed them. have friendships lasted? has the isolation shown how superficial and flimsy so many of our relationships are? and, when it comes to larger groups, have we all actually forgotten how to make small talk? The only way to deal with this is to confront it head on. Of course, I’m not really going to put a stop to my social life and stay in lockdown mode for ever — and nor should you. When the restrictions lift, get out there and force yourself to make the effort to see friends. But, for now, remember it’s perfectly normal to feel a bit daunted by the prospect. after all, things seemed much easier when we were all just stuck indoors watching Netflix and eating toast. I’m determined to take some positives from the pandemic, to focus on what I have learned. I have valued having to tolerate things being a little bit boring. It’s shown me how much time I spend doing things I feel I should be doing, rather than things I actually want to.

This year has shown me that perhaps I don’t need to feel obliged to do absolutely everything. I’m trying to feel bold enough to more carefully edit how I spend my time — and who I spend it with.

AAFTER I described my guilt at getting the Covid jab before my mum, many wrote to say you felt the same. Lots felt people with learning disabilities should have been prioritised. Well now they are being bumped up the list. This seems sensible and I’m pleased those in power have acted on the concerns.

ND I’ve decided I’m going to limit myself to only going out on Thursdays and weekends. The rest of the week I’m going to give myself permission to do nothing.

I’m going to practise saying no to things I don’t really want to do. and I’m not going to allow myself to think I might be missing out.

The pandemic has taught us many things — the value of true friendship and the importance of our health. It’s reaffirmed an appreciation of the NhS and demonstrated the importance of science and research.

But maybe one of the enduring legacies on a personal level — at least for me — is the realisation that it’s OK to admit staying in can be as much fun as going out.