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It’s hard to believe it’s already five years since the first Covid-19 lockdown in March 2020 and the unprecedented disruption to our lives. In an article at the time I discussed the impact of uncertainty that Covid brought with it and how maintaining routines, cultivating self-compassion and goal-setting were ways to attempt to ride out this period. But it was hard to see back then, without the benefit of hindsight, just how disruptive a time this would become. Whilst the daily reality of lockdowns and shielding (for most) is thankfully behind us, many of our lives still bear the marks of Covid-19.

One of the major themes I’ve noted in my work is arrested development. Young people at school or university were denied the usual paths to advancement, socialising, and independence, new parents and their children were suddenly isolated, and those in unhappy, or even abusive, relationships were trapped. The lockdowns seem to put much of our lives on ice, perhaps tapping into earlier experiences of uncertainty or stasis, creating further problems for the future. Fully independent adults returned to the anxieties of adolescence. For those with periods of historic mental or physical illness, there was a time collapse – they were back in the past again, a double hit. For others, the lockdown was a welcome relief, a way to tap out of life for a while without guilt. I know I fell into this myself to a degree, a desire to dwell in the cosy interior rather than face the external world. Useful as an initial defence, less so when it becomes the new normal, as it did for some, unsure how to reengage with the world again when they were able. 

Like many other therapists, my work moved entirely online. A little later I moved to California and then Spain where I now live, Covid somehow loosening those invisible threads keeping me bound to one place. But at a cost, I missed in-person work, something I am only just returning to. Others in the general population had similar epiphanies – the accepted norms of 9-5 commuting were challenged (for those of us with the privilege to challenge them) and the idea of working from home, or moving home, or even country, became a possibility. In this way, Covid has positively changed the landscape of work/life for many. The downside though, especially for the younger generations who rely on in-person workplaces to build important social relationships and professional capital, is that they are left feeling unmoored and lonely, many struggling to shake this off even as work has returned to offices. 

Covid was a boon for online therapy – making this rather niche mode of delivery more like the default, with many therapists moving exclusively online way beyond necessity. The majority of the enquiries I get now are for online work, but there are unending referrals and a long waiting list, especially for established clinicians. On the flip side, there seem to be more people than ever being drawn into the counselling professions, perhaps as a result of the many career changes that the Covid period inspired. Despite the demand, early career therapists might be struggling to make a living. Across the general population Covid, plus a cost-of-living crisis, instability in world politics, wars and environmental collapse, have created a perfect storm of anxiety and depression in many, who are seeking support in unpresented numbers. The counselling profession is still figuring out how to match the high demand for mental health support, with the high workforce available beyond the often limited NHS routes. 

Just as I believe Covid lockdowns may have tapped into earlier, perhaps unprocessed, difficult experiences for some, so will future events and experiences now be impacted by Covid. As I go through chemotherapy in the present, I find myself back in that paranoid phase of masking and washing hands, avoiding contact, and seeing the world through fearful eyes. I’ve noticed younger people seem more avoidant these days, more fearful to embark on new relationships or friendships, and wonder if they might be on some level expecting the world to stop again. 

For those of us lucky enough to have had good enough early experiences of parenting, support when needed, and privileges relating to class, skin colour or nationality, for example, Covid may well have been a difficult but recoverable period. But there are many who still carry the grief and trauma with them – those health and social care staff who took care of us, or those who lost loved ones in such cruel circumstances. As much as conversations may have moved on from talk of Covid and lockdowns, its shadow may still be with us for a long time to come.