After I found out one of my housemates had tested positive for Covid-19, my initial response was to ask if he was joking. He wasn’t.
My housemates and I had all been anxiously waiting on the results for the past 24 hours but we still couldn’t quite believe it.
I called my mum in tears, then rang my boyfriend, who has been travelling abroad, to say he still couldn’t visit me. My four other housemates were having similar conversations in their rooms.
I knew the self-isolation would only last for two weeks, most likely. But time feels so precious when you’re a student, and the sudden, total loss of freedom can be so painful.
My housemate who tested positive said he felt guilty. We reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, it could have happened to anyone.
It’s true – we’d visited the same friends, the same shops, the same pubs. Besides, a sour atmosphere in the house would just make the remainder of our self-isolation more difficult.
Even though the rest of my household have since tested negative, the shadow of Covid will be hanging over us for the rest of our time in quarantine.
The constant worry is draining. You feel like every surface you touch could be contaminated. You start to think your general fatigue is a symptom, and you wonder if your tight chest warrants urgent medical care, or if it’s just plain old anxiety.
“Even though the rest of my household have since tested negative, the shadow of Covid will be hanging over us for the rest of our time in quarantine.”
The only temporary solution is to distract yourself, but it can be much easier said than done – especially when there is, quite literally, no escape.
One housemate – who had to take an exam virtually – has already experienced isolation with a Covid-positive family member. She feels cursed.
Another is managing her demanding role in our college committee, while negotiating a long-term, long-distance relationship.
Self-isolation, on top of the national restrictions, has made everyone in our household feel the weight of their burdens more acutely.
It’s hard not to be melodramatic when the fear is very real – but at least my household and I are in the same boat.
Our morning cups of coffee and Netflix binge-sessions have become small but vital rituals which make our circumstances a bit more bearable.
Fortunately, the general gloom is still peppered with moments of light, which come from living with your close friends.
One housemate and I end up in hysterics as we attempt to renovate our spider-infested garden-shed and, as awful as it is, it’s hard not to laugh at my Covid-positive housemate donning a dressing gown and mask in the kitchen, frantically disinfecting our Henry Hoover.
I’m trying to focus on these moments. But our term hasn’t started officially, and my household and I know that the huge workload will bring with it new challenges.
“How can you stay motivated when you have so little to look forward to? Will my housemates and I still be patient with each other when the stress starts to take its toll?”
How can you stay motivated when you have so little to look forward to? Will my housemates and I still be patient with each other when the stress starts to take its toll? Worst of all, what happens if one of us tests positive later, and our self-isolation is prolonged?
My household and I are lucky to have multiple support networks. We also chose to live together. If we are still struggling, what about the others in our age group who are truly isolated?
This year’s university intake, many of whom are living away from home for the first time, are especially vulnerable. The impending mental health crisis among young people is not something our government can wilfully ignore. With cases rapidly rising among 18-24 year olds, more must be done to ensure that all young people feel supported.
Although this experience so far has not been a wholly pleasant one, it has shown us how resilient we can be, and how it is possible to make peace with factors outside of your control.
That being said, we can’t wait to go outside again.
Natalya Robinson is a second-year history student at the University of Oxford and a freelance writer
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