Covid Story

 

About this time 4 years ago I was collecting Paul from hospital on his 40^th birthday.  He had been in Gloucestershire Royal hospital for about 5 days and, although still extremely unwell, no longer needed to be on oxygen or a drip for antibiotics and anti inflammatories and was well enough to come home.  Both he and I were still very unwell after contracting covid sometime before, we were both too unwell to look after our three children and sat at home for a week like an elderly couple recuperating from a surprisingly bad response to covid.

I had managed to get my act together enough the week he was in hospital to do a Morrisons order so that we had some nice food and a birthday cake when he came out.  I answered the door to the delivery drive whilst in the midst of a coughing fit, and through gasps told him I had covid, at which point he turned tail and practically ran out of our drive leaving all the delivery boxes with me.  I laboriously brought all the shopping in, each step exhausting.

I also had the genius idea to buy a balloon arch off Amazon which I planned to erect over the front door.  I soon realized that I was not going to be able to blow up all those balloons so what should have been a gorgeous rainbow of green silver and white shiny and spangled balloons ended up being three balloons which I sellotaped to the front door.  When I returned from hospital all three had blown off the front door and ended up in the sheep field next to our house.  I think they’re still there somewhere because neither of us had the strength or energy to climb over the fence to fetch them back.  Paul had to just imagine what it should have been.

As Paul’s birthday approaches I become more and more anxious.  The memories of this awful time come flooding back, but perhaps even more triggering than that are the people who continue to deny covid in one capacity or another, either they think it wasn’t real, or not as bad as it was made out to be, or it was caused by something other than a virus, and I wanted to put my story out there not just as a form of therapy for me, but also to debunk silly conspiracy theories about it which till persist today, in fact are perhaps even more prevalent as the memory of how serious covid was fades. I am sure some people are so fixated on their theories that I can’ t change their minds but it will perhaps give some people food for thought, and that is why I wanted to share my story.

 

It was September 2021, I was about six months pregnant and I began to feel unwell,  the children were also showing symptoms and we did a flow test which proved positive for me.  We probably tested the children too I can’t remember.  We did the other type of test too where we had to go to a drive through clinic.  Weirdly these tests came back negative, which we later found out was due to an error is the testing.  It was a strange time because I didn’t officially have covid but was beginning to feel very unwell, and felt certain that I did in fact have covid.

Before I go on I will tell you now that none of us had received any covid vaccines.  This is important because some people believe that it was the covid vaccine that caused the serious cases of covid and covid deaths and not covid itself, and I want to make it quite clear that it was not the covid vaccine that caused us to be so ill.  I realise revealing this information also puts me in the position of having people think we must be a bit stupid to not have taken the vaccine.  The reason we hadn’t was in two parts, firstly we have just been very very busy with moving house, becoming unexpectedly pregnant and trying to find our feet in a new area.  We were also a little bit cautious about the idea of taking a fairly new vaccine.  I was pregnant and fearful of how the vaccine might affect me or my baby.  Paul, although entirely in remission at the time has Crohn’s disease and Ulcerative Colitis, and we had no idea (and neither did anyone else) how the vaccine would affect this inflammatory condition. I think I’d say we had a healthy caution rather than any sort of conspiracy theory about the jabs..

Our view of Covid generally was of cautions skepticism, there was so much information or rather mis-information going round it was very difficult to know what to believe.  We felt that as two healthy adults, both young, with no serious co-morbidities, we did not think Covid would be serious for us it was unlikely that we would experience Covid as anything more than a bad cold.

How wrong we were.

 A lot of what happened is a bit of a blur, we of course isolated ourselves as soon as we found out we had covid and stayed home, pottering around, Paul hoped for a while that is he wore his mask there was a chance he wouldn’t catch it, but of course living with 4 infected people made that impossible. Initially we had high spirits, hoping this would just be like a bad cold but we Paul and I progressively more and more poorly. The feeling was like a heavy cold but with an odd detached, fizzy feeling in the head, we lost our sense of taste and smell of course and eventually began to cough. 

The most worrying thing was that Paul had a high temperature which didn’t seem to go down no matter what he did.  He took paracetamol but it didn’t help reduce his temperature.  He lay in bed with a fan going, with no sheets on, a cool cloth on his head but his temperature was going to from between 38 and 40 degrees. He also had low blood oxygen, which we were able to check because we had several blood oxygen monitors having had to use them during Corbyn’s asthma attacks.

Eventually we realized after phone calls to 111, that Paul ought to see a Dr, he saw a village GP who told him to go to hospital. I took him in and left him to get sorted, whilst I headed home with the boys.  I was obviously very worried about what would happen if I also got so ill that I would need to go into hospital.  We had only been living in the Forest of Dean for about six month and didn’t know people that well, let alone people who had already had Covid who we wouldn’t infect.

Fortunately I had one friend whose family I knew had already had covid. One friend.

 I message her asking if the scenario should occur that I should need to go to hospital could I leave them with her, and she said I could. I knew this would be a huge burden on her and her family because she had six children of her own all living in a three bedroom house. I am not even sure what the alternative would have been if I hadn’t been able to drop the children with her. 

Anyway,  I was at home with the boys, I had got out some corn flour and water and food colouring for them to play with as I was so very ill I couldn’t teach them or do anything.  I could barely make them food, and decided I too needed to see a Dr.  The village Dr advised me to go into hospital as well, I had to enact my plan to take the boys to my friend, I hurriedly (which wasn’t at all very fast) packed bags for them with  a very small amount of clothes and their tooth brushes, I was so ill and had so little energy I couldn’t do more than that, and we headed off.

After dropping them with my friend, I took myself to hospital.

When I arrived I had to head to a special ward, not A and E, a mysterious door with a red arrow on it.  I went in, there were no chairs, no waiting area, I stood not knowing what to do, already exhausted from walking from the carpark to the place.  I began to slump down on to the floor as I couldn’t stand any longer, when luckily a couple (who I think were lost)  found me a chair.

I’m not exaggerating when I tell you it was like something from an apocalypse, people wondering around, healthcare staff rushing from one place to another, not even looking at me, I didn’t know who to speak to, no one seemed to know who I should speak to I just waited and was eventually taken to a room.  It was empty except for one of those horrible hospital chairs, and I waited there, listening to the sounds of other patients coughing, calling for help, telling nurses they were coughing up blood an other such horrors.

After some time a Dr came in.  He came in and saw me, then left muttering something about goggles.  It seemed he couldn’t find any goggles to wear, they were so low on PPE,  and apparently covid was contractable through the mucus membrane of the eye so he needed goggles to protect himself.  He eventually found a pair, but they didn’t have any elastic, so he had to hold them to his eyes whilst he examined me.  That is how diabolical the situation was in the hospital.  The dr had to hold goggles up to his eyes, and examine me with one hand.  I really hope that that Dr was ok, and didn’t catch Covid off me.

After more waiting it was decided I should have a chest xray, I had to sign a form consenting to this knowing it would put my unborn baby at risk of cancer.  But I didn’t know what else to do but to agree to it, I felt so unwell and I didn’t want to put any further risk on my pregnancy.  Fortunately the xray came back clear and I was eventually sent home with an inhaler and assigned a nurse who would contact me, I had to send regular updates on my blood oxygen levels.

I had been regularly messaging Paul at this point and it seemed that he was about to be released from hospital too, so I sat in the car and waited for him to be sent home.  After some time I received a call from Paul saying that they had told him he had sepsis, they were sending the crash team in and he was being admitted. 

As he was about to be discharged he had asked a nurse to check his temperature again as he wasn’t feeling right and on finding it was very high, thank God, he was not allowed home.  I think if he hadn’t asked for his temperature to be taken again, he would have come home with me and very likely died from multiple organ failure.  That’s what they hospital said they thought was about to happen to him.

So I sat in the car in a state of shock, I couldn’t go in to hospital to see him, that was out of the question, so I just had to drive myself home and wait and see if my husband was going to live.

I spent a very wakeful night praying that Paul might live and messaging him and my family back and forth.

I woke up the next morning not knowing if Paul would still be alive, but praise God, they had kept him alive, kept him from multiple organ failure.  He was ok, but very ill.  He was on oxygen and multiple drugs to kill the infection that had caused the sepsis and to reduce inflammation.  

I spent that week at home alone with only the dog for company.  I was in a state of shock barely functioning, I had no appetite and kept forgetting to eat.  I watched episodes of some reality TV show about weddings, that I had forgotten.  I had frequent extreme bouts of coughing, during which I would occasionally pee myself.  I had to keep messaging the covid nurse with my oxygen levels, which were barely satisfactory.  In fact sometimes I lied about them being higher than they were because I desperately didn’t want to go back to hospital.

Paul was having an even worse time in hospital.  To give you a little idea of what it was like, it was a mixed sex ward (honestly I shudder at the thought of being in a mixed sex ward, as a woman being so vulnerable with covid) there were individuals on the ward not of sound mind and the ward was extremely under staffed.  There were times when there was no water available, and no one able to fetch any, there were times when no food came up to the ward, they had missed meals, and were brought sandwiches later, it was a complete mess.  One time Paul tried to go to the toilet and was struggling to breath only to find his mobile oxygen tank hadnt been activated when it was issued to him. Another time he was coughing so badly, he reached out to a nurse for help, and help helped him by closing the curtain around his bed leaving him alone and frightened, coughing and fighting for breath. It was a completely nightmarish scenario, which you probably can’t even imagine if you weren’t there. 

On the day before Paul was released from hospital, it was agreed that I could go in to take him some clean clothes and food.  I packed from clean pants and t shirts and some fruit,  the food there had been very very bad and Paul lost a lot of weight whilst he was in hospital.

At this point I want to dispel another Covid myth. The idea that people only died from Covid because they went into hospital.  Paul was very ill when he went into hospital and the hospital not only saved his life but enabled him to recover.  He didn’t go into hospital a bit unwell and get worse because of the treatment.  He got better because of the treatment.

So I took all these bits in for him. One of the strange side effects we experienced from covid was inflammation in our bodies in places where we had previously had injuries or inflammation. So, for example, Paul had a very aching elbow from where he had broken it after being hit by a car about 15 years prior.  I had an extremely painful hip because of sciatica pain which hard flared up massively.

So because of the sciatica pain I had to walk very slowly and very painfully into the hospital with Paul’s things. I wasn’t able to go into his ward but left his bags by the door and retreated a few meters,  he then came to the door to fetch them.  I don’t think we were able to hug or anything like that. I then had to turn and leave and painfully go back home. On the way back I stopped off to see the boys at my friends house.  Her and her husband had been sleeping on a sofa bed in the living room so that my boys could sleep together in their double bed.  She was keeping nine boys fed, watered and entertained.  An absolute angel in disguise.  I stopped by but very very ill when I was there and nearly fainted from the exhaustion of driving to hospital and back and having not eaten enough, I remember not being sure if I had even eaten that day.  It was clear that I wasn’t well enough to take the boys home, but she said she thought the boys  might be coming to their end of their tolerance for being there.  I went home to recover. 

The next day was where our story began where I collected Paul from hospital on his 40th birthday. I had asked some friends that week if they could send him a birthday card just to bring a bit more cheer to the day.  I drove us both home and I was thanking and praising God all the way.  As we passed a church I had a sudden urge to go in and fall on my knees and just pray out thanksgiving that my husband was alive, but thought Paul might not appreciate it so much!

We got home, imagined the balloons on the door and collapsed on the sofa.

That afternoon the boys were dropped back at our house by my friend and we had a little celebration with the cake I had ordered and some other snacks and bits. 

Paul and I were still extremely ill thought at this point so, since we were all now testing negative for covid, my mum and dad came over and took the boys to their house for another 5 days.

I cannot express enough how very unwell we were.  We couldn’t look after our children and could barely feed ourselves.  We hobbled around the house, sat out in the garden trying to get some late September vitamin d, and just tried to manage. That week was a total blur and I was just grateful that Paul was ok.  We were still anxious that we might get ill again, but thankfully we continued to slowly recover. A few friends and people from church very kindly brought round some meals for us, and some of my friends clubbed together and sent over a massive hamper of snacks and treats for us which was just amazing.

We decided at one point that it would be lovely for the boys when they came back, to have a trampoline!  So we ordered one online (that was the easy part)  and we spent an entire day erecting it.  A job that probably should have taken us no more than about an hour took a whole day.  We were so slow, and tired and exhausted.

Eventually we were well enough to have the boys back, though our sense of taste and smell didn’t return for a few more days.  I remember the day I could taste again, we had cooked a fry up as a treat and I could just taste the fried tomato that I was eating, it was very exciting.

Paul went on to have long covid and struggled with his breathing issues, exhaustion and brain fog for many months afterwards.  I went on to have a healthy baby, although was diagnosed with asthma, after returning home from hospital.  I’ll never know if having covid triggered this or not but that is the only long term issue I seem to have had (aside from trauma).  We all went on to have covid two more times after this,  thankfully no where near as bad, much more like the bad cold we had expected the first time.

We do not know why we were so ill when many people were fine, we will never know, I can see no reason for two healthy people to become so diabolically ill I can only guess that we contracted a particularly nasty strain.

I continue to experience trauma from this episode of my life.  I am triggered around this time of year, which is why I decided to write all this down and put it out there, to tell everyone what happened and banish some myths that still persist about covid. 

I still get triggered when I see people writing nonsense about covid online or in conversations.  I think one of the maddest theories is that covid was caused by 5G. I am at a point in life where I think people who had these wild theories are actually just rather silly and possibly a bit naive, and in spite of being a person who really doesn’t generally like conflict, I have no qualms about contradicting these people. But on my more sympathetic days I think people come up with these theories as a way of protecting themselves from fear.  If they believe they are safe for whatever reason (because they didn’t have the jab or whatever) then they can banish fear and feel safe.

I have no interest at all now in conspiracy theories  If you didn’t get very sick from covid there is one reason and one reason only, and that’s luck (and God’s grace of course, but for ease of communication we will call is luck, or chance, or whatever).  You were very lucky that you didn’t have underlying health conditions, or were old, and you were very lucky you didn’t catch a particularly nasty strain like Paul and I did.  You are not special in not getting sick, you’re just lucky.

The only other issue I have is with the sound effects from the Switch game, Zelda, that Paul played whilst he was ill at home, and the sound of the whirring of the fan. When I hear those sounds I have to leave the room, as I get a horrible feeling of the memory of that time, and I’d rather avoid it if possible.

I can avoid those sounds which trigger the memories, but I often can’t avoid stupid conspiracy theories, I know that people want to make themselves feel safe (though of course they’d never admit this is the real reason they come up with them) but the problem is with life is that we are never really safe, fear and danger lurk around every corner, and you can’t eliminate it by avoiding vaccines, or paracetamol, or by eating fermented food, or avoiding processed food or taking special herbs or homeopathy or anything, the only way to immunize ourselves from fear is through Jesus Christ. And if you want to know more about that please message me and I am happy to talk to you about him.

So there we have it, our covid story finally down on screen, for my own therapeutic purposes and for the benefit of those who still think covid was just the flu or was all made up. (healthy people don’t nearly die from the flu)

Long term lessons I have learnt from this experience are that when you are going through dark times, people go out of their way to show their kindness and I will always be thankful for that.  I now also have renewed skepticism in what people now call alternative therapies (can we go back to the days when we called it complementary therapy?)

I am so thankful we have the NHS has we have pharmaceuticals.  Of course there is corruption in every system, no system is perfect because they’re made up of sinful people, but I think on the whole they are striving for help, not harm. Not everyone is evil, not every system is evil.  I still use herbs, and homeopathy etc, but  accept the fact that we live in a fallen world and there isn’t always a natural answer for all our ailments, no matter how much some individuals would like to believe that. On this side of heaven there will always be suffering, and until the day comes when all mourning and pain ceases I will take the best that science AND nature have to offer.

Whole persons

 I have been familiar with, and a proponent of the Charlotte Mason method of home education for many years but it has only been recently that I have fully understood her "born persons" theory.

Charlotte Mason believed that children were born as whole persons, already imbued with a body, soul, spirit, mind, will and emotions. She believed that the purpose of education was to draw out the best of what was already there, to help children to reach the potential that was already present within them.  

She says:

"If we have not proved that a child is a born person with a mind as complete and as beautiful as his beautiful body, we can at least show that is, that his mind is the instrument of his education and that his education does not produce his mind." (my emphasis.)

Charlotte believed that a child was already a whole person and by feeding and nourishing him or her as a whole person they would develop naturally and reveal that whole person. 

When Charlotte Mason wrote this, children were educated in quite a different way.  Educational philosophy dictated that each part of a child was separate and must be developed and focused on by a teacher in a particular order in order for a child to become a complete person.  

It was thought in Charlotte Mason's time that some children were not capable of elevated thinking and their minds were only fit for manual labor, it was not considered worth educating them on the arts or history etc, but Charlotte believed that all children could find value and beauty in Art, Poetry and Literature to one degree or another if only they were exposed to the wonder of it and given the opportunity in the right environment and with the right approach. 

This might sound very sensible to our modern ears, though it was quite revolutionary in the late 1800s to early 1900s.  However we still have far to go in order to really understand children as Charlotte Mason did, and to put her philosophy into practice. 

I saw a clip from the news recently showing a young man receiving his GCSE results, he had done very well, achieving top grades.  I looked to the comments section below and read a comment implying that if only all children worked as hard as this child, then everyone could achieve as he had. 

   

I feel like I am a testament to the inaccuracy of this statement, having worked so hard and with excellent teaching I still only achieved a grade C in maths.  I am extremely proud of that grade C, it was what I needed to get where I wanted to go and I worked so so hard for it.  I do not believe there is any way that I could have done better, I could not have worked harder, my own mental capacity in this subject area was what limited me.  I flourished in other subjects and that's ok, we cannot all be experts in everything.  

However I think the world forgets this, we live in a time where we are told, and we tell our young people that they "can do anything you set your mind to" (Benjamin Franklin) if they work hard enough. This is not true and it is incongruent with Charlotte Mason's philosophy (Sorry Ben!) Charlotte acknowledges that each child has different capacities, limits, strengths.  She says "Genius comes by nature" that is to say that some children have genius and some do not and no amount of education can create it.  And that's ok!  The point being that a child is not born as a blank sheet of paper just waiting to become either a genius (with the correct attitude, mindset and willpower) or a delinquent (with the wrong attitude, mindset and lack of willpower), their born nature plays an important part as well.

  

It is easy to dismiss children who are struggling in a subject or skill as simply not trying hard enough, not working hard enough or not applying their mind enough to the task, and this is where the notion that "you can do anything you set your mind to" is problematic.  The reality might simply be that their born nature has strengths that would excel elsewhere given then right environment, habits and approach. 

I couldn't have put my mind to it any harder that I did back when I did my maths GCSE, my limit was a C. It wasn't any lacking in my upbringing that meant maths wasn't my strength, it was my born nature. 

The other problem I see with people not seeing children as whole persons is that, because they see a child as a blank sheet of paper waiting the have a mark made upon it, they expect children to be exact replicas of themselves or their parents, (for good or for ill) parents want their children to behave and act in the way that they would, or at least in he way they want, and likewise have low expectations for children of parents who have struggled in life. 

This is problematic for children who do not act how their parents would want. For example if we place a group of boys, or otherwise energetic and spirited children in a confined space and expect them to sit quietly listening for an hour, it would be unreasonable of us to get cross when they found this difficult, although a group of girls or quieter children may be able to do this without difficulty because their nature is to be able to do so. This is not the fault of the boys or their parents teaching and training, it is the fault of the parents or educators having unreasonable expectations. 

 

 

I again speak from personal experience as a person who was a very biddable child who could sit listening for fairly long periods of time without difficulty, but I observe my sons and see that this is not something they would be able to achieve, not because their character is lacking, because they haven't been taught or disciplined in the right way by me, but simply because it is not in their nature, they are their own people, with their own strengths and weaknesses, it's like Einstein says: 

"But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." 

I haven't included the first part of this quote which is "Everybody is a genius" because, as previously discussed, I do not agree (sorry Albert!)

Likewise for the child of parents who have struggled in life, (who perhaps haven't had the right opportunity to flourish and find their strengths), their nature isn't necessarily going to replicate that of their parents (although I do acknowledge that nurture plays a part in how a child develops of course) given the right environment, habit training and approach these children can thrive and flourish and find their own strengths just as well as those whose parents have been successful, but if we dismiss children as failures before getting to know their nature and finding out how they can thrive we do them a great disservice. 

Each child has their own unique and individual personalities that they're born with and grow into with our help, none is a mini me, a blank sheet ready for us to impress our own personalities, and people who think this will be in for a shock when they discover that their children have their own minds, their own natures, their own strengths (and weaknesses) and personalities. 

The first example above is posed as a fault of the child; they did not work hard enough, or put their mind to it enough, the second example is posed as the fault of the parent for not training or disciplining their child correctly.  Neither is true, and once we start to see children as born persons we can begin to understand them and nurture their personalities and nature more appropriately, set more reasonable expectations, and allow our children to thrive and flourish in areas where their can. 

 

This is meant to be one of the beautiful things about home education, but it is so easy to get ourselves caught up in trying to squeeze our children into the shapes we want them to be rather than allowing, encouraging, nurturing them to grow into the shapes they were meant to be. I know I have been guilty of this and I am taking stock, remembering that each of my children has their own unique personalities, their own learning preferences, their own capacities and their own passions. 

I look forward to discovering who each of my children grow to become, watching them find their strengths, and seeing them thrive when I allow for their own unique qualities to shine forth. 

Social Media Fast - my 40 days offline

 It's Lent!

This is a special time of year for some Christians as we prepare to celebrate Jesus' death and resurrection on Good Friday followed by Easter. 

This time of preparation was traditionally used as a time of fasting, remembering Jesus' 40 days and nights in the desert where he fasted from food and drink and was tested by the devil. 

Since the 300's AD people fasted during lent, and later people would fast from foods like eggs, milk and butter, which is why we make pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, to use up these items. 

This Lent I am fasting from sugar and social media, and I want to tell you that so far, just under two weeks in, it has been wonderful.  Some might say I am a bit of a cheat thought because I do indulge in these two vices on Sundays.  Lent is, after all 40 days and nights EXCLUDING Sundays, because on Sundays we celebrate the risen Christ.  I have been using two really good devotionals to help me remain focused and committed to the fast, the first is called Celtic Lent, 40 days of devotions to Easter by David Cole, and the second is called The 40-day Social Media Fast by Wendy Speake. 

I don't want to lecture you about the benefits of giving up sugar, the benefits are pretty well documented (Wendy Speake has also written a 40-day devotional for quitting sugar), what I will tell you thought is that my once a week indulgence of sugar on Sundays is revealing to me how unpleasant an effect sugar actually has on my body.  I can't deny the biscuits, syrup soaked pancakes, Turkish delight and cake have tasted delicious, but I could really do without the sluggish, jittery, dizzy, headachy spell I get afterwards. So far my Sundays have been especially unproductive (aside from writing this blog post of course which is fuelled by an especially delicious pistachio flavoured Turkish delight!) Housework and planning have gone out the window as I have stumbled round the house, face buried in my phone, wondering where I put my cup of tea and trying to pull myself together enough to do something productive. 

Needless to say I hope to persist with abstaining from sugar after Lent is over and continue to benefit from the reduction in sugar spikes, the clearer head and the genuine energy to do things around the house that fasting from sugar has generated. 

What I really want to talk about is my break from social media, not so much what I have gained from not going on, which has been a great deal including more time for reading and looking my children in the face, but more especially what I am NOT missing out on. 

Before Lent I am ashamed to say that I was likely addicted to social media, it was an excellent distraction and diversion from the stresses of home educating four wild boys, staring at Facebook videos, one after the other in an endless reel was a hypnotising, dopamine stimulating, but cortisol inducing way of escaping from life.  I was like a chain smoker who couldn't resist picking up the next cigarette and lighting up, before I knew it I spent an hour lying in bed watching reel after reel, resulting in an even later night (and tired-er morning) as I lay awake for a further hour, overstimulated and unable to sleep. 

Thankfully, unlike withdrawing from drugs alcohol or cigarettes I have suffered from almost no withdrawal effects. For a few days I was compulsively checking my phone for updates and notifications, I still check my phone for messages but its much less often habitually, and I often go several hours without realising I haven't checked my phone. Now, only 12 days later I am not checking nearly as often. 

What I had come to realise before I made my break from social media is that it is almost wholly toxic and bad for us. 

There are of course some benefits, such as finding out about home education and church events, and being able to ask people for help of different subjects, connecting with other people.  This is of course what sold us all on social media to begin with, connection, but for me, that became a much less used resource than the video reels. So, I'm not saying that social media is all bad, but it had become very unhealthy for me. 

I wasn't just watching reels on Facebook, I was also watching reels on Instagram and twitter and spending significant amounts of time reading posts and comments on Twitter.  Thankfully I have never engaged with Tiktok so have not had to deal with that monster. 

I'd say that Instagram was the least toxic of these, the algorithms generally showed me aspirational posts, home education, homesteading and home making ideas.  With these sorts of posts there is always the risk of comparison, the "grass is always greener on the other side" feeling, but generally speaking there wasn't too much horrific content.  I do sometimes fall victim to felling not-as-good-as the women who seem to have perfect lives, but I have enough sense to know that oftentimes we aren't seeing the full picture.

Facebook also has generally inoffensive algorithms, they were much less relevant to me, funny kitten videos, people falling from things, hyper speed cleaning videos, that sort of thing.

By a long shot Twitter was the most toxic.  There were two main types of post that I was being show, first, posts which would provoke me to anger, such as those with an anti-Christian, anti-woman, anti-child message, and second, posts which would shock, upset or disgust.  The algorithms were wild, showing me things I had never searched for, not would ever want to.  I have seen an awful lot of things on twitter that I wish I had never seen, to give you a flavour, I have seen people who were almost certainly being killed, dead babies, women with severe anorexia, images of self-harm, broken limbs and actual p8rn. What is most worrying is that essentially a child could see these things.  As I said, I never searched for any of this content, it was what Twitter decided to show me.

A friend told me recently that this difference between Instagram and Twitter is more common knowledge than I had thought, apparently a post search for "France" or "French" on Instagram would show pleasant photos of baguettes in bike baskets, the pretty Parisian women in front of the Eiffel tower, beautiful French landscapes, delicious food and of course manicures (at least Instagram knows I am a woman!) whereas an equivalent search on twitter would show posts and photos of angry protests, rioting and posts with a generally negative tone.  I did this search myself and found it to be generally true the only thing they had in common was football (obviously the algorithms don't know me THAT well!) The comments section on Twitter is by far the worst place and where I saw the most disgusting, debased content. 

I haven't been able to manage this very well as an adult, I have found myself feeling deeply disturbed, upset, angry, agitated and repulsed by some of the things I have seen, and I'd like to remind you that I have never searched for any of this content.  I am certain that if I had the wherewithal I might have been able to change settings so that I saw less disturbing content, but my point is, children might be seeing this. Children. 

It is hard enough as an adult with a fully developed brain, to extract myself from the endless scrolling.  The videos and images are so stimulating and provoke such an addictive response in the brain that it can be very hard to put down your phone and step away from it. They are designed to be like this, to keep us coming back. If social media becomes an addiction, UK Addiction Treatment Centres says that:

"An addict [social media] will rely on their device compulsively to satisfy a particular need, dependant on social media to feel balanced and functional.  This is because social media use activates those same reward pathways that are triggered when using an addictive substance, such as drugs or alcohol.

When we spend time on social media platforms, our brain releases small bursts of dopamine, as if to reward us for such a pleasurable activity. Experiencing this neurological response can push us to take part in that behaviour again, using social media to seek instant and constant gratification wherever we are."

If social media is so potentially addictive for an adult imagine how much more so it might be for a child. 

What is more the content itself is potentially harmful.  For example seeing pro-anorexia content has been shown to trigger anorexia in those at risk of or recovering from anorexia. There is also evidence that viewing self-harm increases self-harm, and that watching footage of violence can increase aggression even in children. 

Because of the unfiltered nature of social media, which, unlike television has very little in the way of editing and regulation, the risk of seeing harmful imagery is high unless restrictions are in place. 

You can see therefore that I am really not missing anything positive from being absent from social media, and I am benefitting from missing a great deal of nasty and unpleasant stuff.  One weird thing I have noticed since going media-free has been that I have been so so tired!  I have concluded that prior to lent my brain was essentially running purely on sugar and dopamine hits and hyper stimulation from social media.  The screen would keep me up late at night with its over-stimulating and troubling viewing, and in the morning, I'd be so tired, I'd need a boost of social media, with it's dopamine hits to switch my brain back on.  However because now I am feeling my tiredness, I am going to bed earlier and getting more sleep. 

It's worth mentioning that social media use has been shown to also increase the stress hormone cortisol, according to behavioural health experts:

"Too much time on social media increases stress levels, and levels of the stress hormone cortisol and adrenaline.  The more you engage in doomscrolling, the more cortisol and adrenaline are released in your brain and body.  This leads to more stress and both mental and physical exhaustion."

It has been a great relief for me to extract myself from all this harmful content, as well as the constant diet of dopamine and cortisol in unhealthy and inappropriately timed amounts.  It has freed me to dig into lots of books, has opened my spirit to more prayer and bible study, turned my face and heart towards my children, turn my body towards housework and even start tackling the growing to-do list.  

I'd like to conclude this post by saying that I'll never become addicted to social media again, that I'm going to use my self-control to only use it appropriately, but I am worried that I won't be able to resist the temptation to scroll once Lent is over.  I really don't want to get into those bad habits.  This post will have to be a "to be continued" type of post and we will have to wait and see, though probably I'll be too ashamed to mention it if I do get sucked back in. Please do message me if you have any tricks or tips of staying free from social media.

Have you given up anything for Lent? Have you given up social media or sugar? How are you finding it? Let me know.