Day 19
A friend reached out to me this morning recognising my stress and it hit me. I’d reached information and emotional overload and I was responding to triggers on Facebook — my strings were being played and I was singing like a bird. Fortunately I held it together but I could see why I was feeling adrift last night. Yet I can’t imagine what frontline staff are going through, watching people die, seeing their colleagues fall prey to the virus and being exhasted and ill equipped.
I guess there is some cognitive dissonance at play when we find ourselves as extras looking on as the paid actors play to the camera, acting out their roles as we suspend our disbelief. Its the stage hands and technicians who keep the whole thing going but only get a mention in the final credits which roll as the audience leaves the cinema. If the film set were a battle we would make up most of the casualties, the techicians would be the medical unit, the director and producer would watch from the sidelines and the lead actor would believe in his own invincibility while never actually firing in anger.
The whole political scene plays out like a sick farce while those who are most influential and best rewarded are the least competent
Its scarily like a cheap soap opera, conducted by invisible directors and fronted by ham actors. All scenes take place in…
