20th March 2020 – in about 10 minutes (as of the time of writing), it would will be the completion of the first 24 hours of New Zealand closing its borders to the world.

First time in New Zealand history that this has happened.

Covid-19 is partly to blame, idiots who can’t follow instructions like “self isolate” (these being mostly tourists and some dumbass locals) are mostly to blame.

As of this time, we now have 39 confirmed cases, up 11 from yesterday’s 28.

I don’t agree with the border closing, but, I do.

It was realistically the only option available to try and stem the stupidity.

However, this has a greater effect than just stopping people entering the country, it also effectively stops us leaving.

And guess what it’s done for my mental state of wellbeing, considering I now feel so totally powerless and helpless, that I can’t reach out and assist someone that is dear to me, who is stuck in Australia.

So close, so very very close, yet so fucking far now.

The internet, made the world smaller, distance wasn’t a issue, we have emails, VOIP, instant messaging, many ways of keeping in touch, and it was fairly easy (though somewhat costly) to buy a ticket and fly somewhere… but for now, and who knows how long, we are trapped again, imprisoned within this country, within our minds, within… these bones we exist around…

Trapped and broken.

Now what.

I went into town this evening (friday night)… and it’s quiet…. usually full of party-goers.. now, it’s quiet.

I think of my friend in Australia, and it’s still quiet, aside from the screams of frustration echoing eternally inside my bones..

I feel broken.

One of the stabilities I had in my life, a crutch, an emergency relief, was that I knew if things got too bad, I could just buy a plane ticket and fuck off for a while… escape the maddening screams that touch me every time I walk into my house, or sit in my car, or think about the time we spent together enjoying each others friendship and that soulmate style bond… the screams grow louder … and yes, I know I’m not really escaping, because this issue, these problems, this frustration and anxiety .. is all in my head, and it travels with me all the time.

Since yesterday, or even the few weeks I’ve had to manage again by myself, I’m restless, hardly getting any more than 3 or 4 hours sleep… cursed with lying awake in bed, no distractions other than my mind making things worse than they need to be, causing me to panic, and oh, that’s the other fun part, the panic attacks again… something I’ve not had for … well… over 20 years… are back… they welcome me every morning, accompany me through my day, and lay me to rest through sheer exhaustion each night. for 3 or 4 hours, then we start again.

We all carry our own personalised hell with in us. some of us get to sale through hardly noticing… some of us notice.

Broken.

And I don’t know what to do.

Broken.

Life has taken a darker turn for me of late. I pretend that I can see the dim illumination of hope, but, as I said, I pretend.

Broken.

I miss you my friend. You may never read this, maybe I hope you might, mostly I don’t think you ever will, but mostly, I don’t know if we will ever see each other again.

Thank you for everything. just in case.