Last week I received a mix of backlash and appreciation when addressing the mental health crisis.
But look at the facts, this is bigger than we all thought it was going to be. While I appreciate it's a sensitive topic, it's a crisis that's very current, and quite personal to me. So let's delve deeper this week.
Of the 7.5 billion inhabitants of planet Earth, some 900 million people struggle with a mental health disorder. That's 13 per every 100 people.
These struggles come in all sorts of forms, there are a multitude of disorders that human beings undergo - many of which often go unnoticed. But this lockdown, and the domino effect it has created, has multiplied the cases in mental health worldwide. Many people, who we always saw as strong, invincible, grounded individuals may now be crumbling. And, if we don't start doing something now, this effect will continue to echo.
One thing Covid-19 has stolen from a lot of us, is reassurance.
Certainty. Stability. A sense of direction. I've pretty much been able to maintain all of these things throughout life. When my mind is set on something, it can occasionally take a while to get it but I always do. I don't like quitting, and I can't stand the thought of disappointment.
Whether that's disappointing the people around me, or myself.
But with the coronavirus, an unprecedented, hurricane of a pandemic, which came in and shattered everything I have worked for over the last three years, I suddenly felt lost. Like the ground beneath me had been stripped away.
The best metaphor I can use to describe this is a dream I had a couple of nights ago.
I was trekking up an almost vertical hill - probably in the south of Italy somewhere. My family were there by my side, and we were so close to the top I could even see the cafés and restaurants awaiting our arrival. We were sweating, but we were happy. And then the ground start shaking, and I could hear shrieks coming from every direction - deafening me. I don't know why but I started to speed up, faster and faster. Somehow though, I never reached the top. Instead, a colossal tsunami wave got to us first and swept us back to the bottom.
I held my breath for the rest of that dream, and remember my biggest disappointment not being the loss of my family - but the fact that we never reached the top.
Waking up thankful that none of those events actually happened, I realised this nightmare must mean something.
I strongly believe the pandemic has unsettled even the most spontaneous of people. I understand that unlike me, not everyone has the need to control everything. Many don't have their lives set out in to-do lists and step-by-step goals. But by now, I think everyone will have experienced a sense of loss.
This loss, or disappointment, must be talked about. It needs to be shared. No matter how big, or how small it might be. Because while many nations are beginning to lift their lockdowns, and the statistics are looking more positive in various previously badly effected cities: life isn't going to be normal for a long long time. And in the period in which businesses were shut down - a lot of people will have lost their jobs, some of whom will never be able to open their businesses ever again. Homes will have been lost, families too, and 90% of the world will not know where they will stand in a year's time.
We can only hope. At this point that is the best we can do. But we should still do it. And while we can try and plan, maybe we shouldn't. Maybe we should just live our lives one day at a time. Build our schedules one hour at a time. Or maybe, schedules might only remind us of the concrete plans we can never create.
So maybe we should accept the unknown - and abandon our schedules for a while. Maybe that will help us get over those fears?