March 2020 will most likely be etched deep for all of us. It was, of course, the month that the UK went into lockdown, and what we all thought (hoped) was going to last three weeks turned into two years of darkness, fear and uncertainty. I remember it for another reason – my 16-year relationship ended the week lockdown began and I was left with a seven-year-old daughter who we had adopted a few months previously.
When you adopt a child the advice is to keep your life “small” for the first six months. Keep it low-key, establish yourself as a unit and get used to not only being parents but also to dealing with the emotional rollercoaster that understandably comes with a child who has left her previous life and moved in with two strangers; a child who is grieving so seriously that hour-long rages, during which she would trash her room and throw things at me, occurred four or five times a week.
So it was early days in our new shrunk-to-fit life when lockdown hit and three became two… and a dog. I was in 24/7 shock. I think I went into pure autopilot – as did many of us. I was running my own business as the world shut down: there was an office to exit, a team to manage, clients to help, bills, a mortgage, a relationship split, dealing with social workers and, of course, giving a frightened little girl a home while being a rookie mum.
As reality set in and lockdown moved from three weeks to “indefinite”, I realised I was going to have to dig deep. Completely on my own with a seven-year-old and a dog, I couldn’t pull any of my usual “bounce back” tricks out of the hat, like sinking a bottle of wine with girlfriends, a haircut or – possibly most importantly for me – travel. This time I couldn’t escape in the car or on a train to help get some perspective. How could I keep going? Crumbling and hiding under the duvet, crying for a day, or even an hour, was not an option. I had a brave little girl hoping for a settled, safe new life – so I needed to find new ways to build my strength.
There were things I didn’t do. I didn’t drink. There had been a lot of addiction in my daughter’s early life, so there was no alcohol at all in my flat. I didn’t rant or cry on the phone (little ears listening). I worked, sometimes starting at 5am to get a couple of hours in before breakfast, and I spoke to my long-time therapist once a week. I practised gratitude (being grateful for three things every morning really does boost the spirits) and I read about a “reframe”. Instead of saying “I have to do something”, I would say “I get to do the bed and bath routine”. It’s powerful. And I walked. My daughter was classed as a vulnerable child so she was at school for part of lockdown, and my twice-daily solo dog walks during that time became the highlights of my day. It was on these that I began my new addiction to audio books and, I suppose, an exploration of resilience. I consulted the experts and this is what I learnt.
It takes time to build resilience but it’s possible for everyone
Resilience, I discovered, is not a trait reserved for the privileged few. Rather, it’s something that can be cultivated and honed and it can help you survive pretty much anything.
The NeuroSuccess coach and TranceFormations founder Marilyn Devonish was sexually abused as a child but can “now talk about it as easily as ‘How’s the weather?’ because I have done the work on myself”.
“The definition of resilience,” Devonish says, “is your ability to absorb high levels of disruption, change and trauma and have the ability to bounce back. It’s also about how to have the ability to deal with uncertainty.”
Every day is better when it has a structure
Award-winning coach James Davis, co-founder of The Midlife Mentors, believes structure and routine can be a key first step to getting through hard times. As he explains, our subconscious wants to feel that everything is safe and in some ways predictable. “This is why Covid was such a challenge because the perceived certainty of life was washed away,” he says. “I say ‘perceived’ because, of course, nothing in life is certain. So when we have these stressful situations, our subconscious, through trying to bring us back to a place of safety, can feel overwhelmed.”
Building resilience, he explains, involves planning, prioritising and setting routines that allow the subconscious a perceived level of certainty. “Once people start building an action plan, they start to feel a lot better.”
Remember that crises often do come all at once
Difficult times have a tendency to hit us all in one go: a bereavement, a house move, a lost job. According to a study by the University of Sydney, people take an average of four years to emotionally recover from major financial losses or health shocks. Like me, Devonish experienced her own perfect storm of crises, which led to a new career as a therapist and coach.
“I started a new job and had an NHS treatment go horribly wrong,” she says. “I went from a size 8 to a size 16 and had problems with my heart and kidneys. Then I discovered that my partner was cheating on me. One of those things on its own is enough to break someone, but together they were like a juggernaut. I contemplated suicide and called the Samaritans. The following year I became a Samaritan.”
And while multiple crises can feel very personal, it is fairly normal and, says counsellor Georgina Sturmer, it’s important to reframe this as part of life. “We’re always only one phone call away from disaster. All it takes is that knock on the door. Life is so fragile.” So having the tools to tackle whatever life throws at us is more than desirable – it’s essential.
You have to face up to grief and get moving
Sadly grief will affect us all, and research is unearthing how deeply and broadly it can affect us. People who have suffered the sudden unexpected death of a family member or friend have a 14.3 per cent chance of developing PTSD. Prolonged grief disorder (PGD, also known as complicated grief) is a condition that usually affects one in 10 people in the UK, but Covid has made this worse. Three in 10 in a sample of those bereaved from March 2020-January 2021 were found to have the disorder more than two years after their loss.
According to Anita Guru, a life coach, “Grief doesn’t always go away. It’s a trauma that gets stored in your body. And then when you experience another grief, you’re not just experiencing that grief, but all the other losses you’ve experienced.”
Guru lost one parent at 16 and the other at 28, then lost her sister-in-law in 2023. “This time I consciously allowed myself to feel everything. I had to let it all out and there were moments where I felt like I was losing my mind, but if I held it in, it would be like a poison that stays with me,” she says.