Mask Wearing, Legal Exemptions, and the Reality of Dissociation

Morning pages 19th January 2022. Written close to noon after some difficulties.

...

It's windy out there but this morning the weather is stunning.  I want to be walking, to see the river, explore the land above Ovingham or to return to the Derwent valley or to the forest at Chopwell.  Instead my only walk was to the physiotherapy department and back.

I have been struggling with dissociation.  That's nothing new.  I truly did not want to wear a face mask for my appointment, having dissociated during the previous two.  I had to though, even though I'm exempt from wearing one.  The therapist said I had to and it was clear the appointment would be cancelled if I didn't.  I was forced to do something I didn't legally have to do and while there's no point being cross about it because that changes nothing, I am cross.

It's not like I don't want to help by wearing a mask.  I do, desperately.  I just know what the consequences can be.  In some appointments in the past I've dissociated so extremely that staff have been very worried about me but of course Lucy assures them we can get home safely even when she is not assured of it herself.  Sometimes it's not Lucy who gets us home because sometimes she doesn't know how.

I don't function well in appointments if masked and often cannot remember them afterwards because I drift away and someone else fronts.  Being able to remember an appointment is quite important to me. I'd taken a lateral flow test too, ninety minutes before the appointment.  Unless I'd become contagious in the previous hour I wasn't likely to infect anyone with Covid.  While I do understand the need to protect people and wear a face mask if I can in shops and on buses and in other similar situations - which so many people don't even though they're not exempt - the fact is that I am exempt and sometimes need to be firm about that.

In any case, if he was so worried about Covid, why was it me who asked for the window to be opened for ventilation?  Why wasn't it open as a safety measure already?

Writing this a few hours later I can say this: I cannot remember much of the appointment.  I know there were some leg things done but can't tell you much about them.  I know I'm meant to do exercises each day because there was a sheet of them in my bag when I got home.  I know there's another appointment because that's written on the exercise sheet.  And I do know that my ribs will be examined again soon.  I can't remember much more.

Why?  Because of dissociation.  Because of the mask.

It doesn't always happen and often I can control it.  Sometimes I can't and over the last two years I've learned to spot when the more difficult consequences would arise.  Not always, but in the beginning I couldn't spot it at all.  Sometimes I try to wear a mask on a bus and have to take it off even before leaving Byker, two minutes into the journey.  Sometimes I simply have to admit I can't do it and I know full well that I've pushed myself too far on quite a few occasions and ended up in difficulties where I can hardly get home safely.

This isn't just pretending.  This is my reality.  I can't express how much I hated seeing people when masks first became compulsory calling on their conspiracy and conspirituality chums to pretend to be exempt and then state the law if challenged.  That's right, there were calls for people to pretend to be disabled just to get out of something that may not be a joyous bundle of laughs but which does help the situation as study after study has proved without any iota of doubt.  Perhaps some masks are better than others in preventing transmission but they all did something as long as mouth and nose were covered up.

The level of dishonesty in pretending to be disabled shocked me.  It doesn't shock me now and there has been much worse since.  I'm almost beyond being shocked at how despicable people can easily become.  Now I'm more saddened at how quickly normal people can be convinced that evil is good.

I am exempt though, in theory for three different reasons.

Asthma gets me an exemption though I don't claim it because my asthma is mild and there are plenty of asthmatic people who become surgeons and nurses or join other professions where a mask is essential.  They wear masks for much longer than most of us would have to and for many hours more than I've ever done.  Very often the masks they wear are far more difficult to wear and far more uncomfortable than the basic cloth or sometimes surgical masks I've worn.  We've all seen the photos of nurses coming off shift from a covid ward and the painful looking marks on their faces.  Some of them are asthmatic too so it's not like my asthma is any justification for avoiding masking up.

Autism and related sensory sensitivities get me an exemption though I don't claim it because I know I can overcome that, at least in terms of a mask.  It can be hard but I've overcome so many things that the physical discomfort is just one more and I wasn't going to let a piece of material defeat me just for that. If I could get of those psychiatric pills and get to the end of the horrible withdrawal I went through then I can just deal with masks and sensory difficulties.

Exemption number three I claim.  When I need to.  At least I've been learning to claim it.  Sticking on a face mask can give me flashbacks of sexual abuse I don't consciously remember and the distress levels can lead very quickly to dissociation and consequent risks.  Sometimes I can go straight to dissociation.  It's not nice.  How's that for understating the extent of the problem?

When I, Clare, say I need that exemption then I damn well need it otherwise you won't be talking to Clare anymore.  I'll have faded out, switched out, and one of the others will speak and act in my place.  Sometimes recovery is quick.  Sometimes not.  Today was quick though I still feel the effects mentally and physically and will still have the remnants of that tomorrow.

So I can't remember the appointment.  That's not good but perhaps Lucy will be able to explain later.  Getting out of the building and removing the mask helped immediately, especially because the sky is so bright today.  At home Lucy played a game for an hour while I came back into focus.  She watched me play the game last year and now she wants to play it all too.  There are plenty of things worse than that and I'm fortunate because Lucy won't deliberately hurt us.

My head hurts now, a post- involuntary switch headache.  That's milder too than it can be.  Sometimes they've been agony and I've been left with emotional remnants too that I don't know what to do with.  Still, there was no sexual flashback this morning and for that I'm grateful.  Perhaps Lucy stepped in to protect me.

It's a surprise to me that sometimes I can be in a shop or on a short bus ride and have no more discomfort from the mask than anyone - not that I can compare.  Then the next time it's an impossible or something I force myself to endure even though I know the risks and how vulnerable I can become.  I haven't failed to get home yet but it's sometimes taken much longer than it should, hours longer on occasion, and I am left with no memory of that time.  Lucy may be wise but she's a child and there are others in my head who aren't so keen on protecting me.

I need the exemption.  Today it was refused.  I'm home.  I'm safe.  I'm recovering.  I'm looking forward to lunch.  Yet there are consequences even today.  I wonder if I'd be allowed to audio record the next appointment so I could fill in memory gaps.

Now it's time to sit and be calm.  Later I am out again and am wise enough that I'll claim the exemption on the bus.

...

Evening:

I wasn't wise.  On the way out I was.  On the way back I felt so guilty because the bus was more crowded that I put the mask on.  It wasn't good.  Listening to music helped but it truly wasn't good.  All the bus windows were closed too.  Why can't people leave them open for everyone's benefit?

I didn't cope well at the social group I went to.  I had to stand outside quite a few times and then go and sit in another room for half the time.  I was close to tears for a lot of it.  Tonight the headache is worse than it was at lunchtime and we had a collective meltdown when it was time to make dinner.  Eventually we had one of the very cheap Pot Noodles we bought yesterday at a community charity project.  

I'm anxious.  I'm struggling to stay focused and Lucy played her game for a couple more hours.  Sleep will help and tomorrow is a new day.  Today will fade away.

Next week I see the physiotherapist again.  And my choices will be taken away.  The appointment is at the end of the week and today we learned that by then some of the Covid protection measures will be gone including the requirement to wear masks in public spaces.  It's going back to "advisory" which we all know means most people won't do it just as they didn't when it was "advisory" before.  That won't apply to NHS sites though.

I worry now.  For the million people in this country who are clinically vulnerable in different ways.  What of their safety?