People will die unless crisis in mental health is tackled by Scottish Government

The Scottish Government needs to get its social priorities in order.

Before we discuss when schools, shops and pubs might reopen, we must first get our collective mind around the mental health crisis that is bubbling beneath the surface of this lockdown.

Things were bad enough back in that world of normality we are all so keen to return to.

But believe you me, another couple of weeks of this and we’re going to see some spikes of an entirely different nature, as those living alone, or struggling with addictions or mental health issues, succumb to their demons.

Isolation is a killer. Without social contact, the average person withers like a houseplant in a dark room.

Often the fantasy of having time on your own, surrounded by nothing but silence, sounds better than it actually is.

I do a fair bit of whingeing about the stresses of raising young children in lockdown but I suspect I’m one of the lucky ones.

In truth, I dread to think how I’d be faring right now had I been forced to spend the last 10-or-so weeks on my own.

As a society, it is now time to think very carefully about how we proceed where this business of enforced isolation is concerned.

As lockdown restrictions begin to ease around the world, we are all keen to know which aspects of our old lives we may be able to enjoy again.

For some, that means going to the park. Travelling to a beach.

For others, it may simply be getting on the bus or sitting in a friend’s garden in the sunshine. I am certainly looking forward to a cup of proper coffee and some headspace to write.

Our needs and desires are all different but, irrespective of the specific activities we wish to return to one day soon, most of us are following a hardwired instinct for social connection.

Lockdown has changed how we connect, if we even connect at all.

The public health implications are massive.

The number of people I know who are experiencing serious mental health issues seems to increase by the day.

Some have been suicidal. Others have relapsed into alcohol and drug use.

Then there are those who are seeking help but finding it is no longer available in the traditional sense.

With all due respect, helplines and websites are all well and good, but they are no substitute for proper social contact.

In truth, I live in daily fear that I will receive news that someone I care about has taken their own life. I’m not the only one.

The big difficulty we have right now is that we cannot follow our instincts to go to those people we love and help them. Nor can they come to us.

Unless you’re Dominic Cummings, moving around outside the guidelines is not an option.

What our leaders really need to be considering as they weigh up the pros and cons of resuming specific areas of activity is how soon the mental health and addiction services and social networks like 12-step groups and counselling can begin operating again in the physical world.

This needs to be a priority, ranking as highly as any aspect of the education or the economy.

Lives are at risk.

Arrogance of poor man’s Machiavelli

What can you say about Dominic Cummings that hasn’t already been said? Turns out you can say plenty.

Cummings is an Asda-price Machiavelli. An apolitical sweaty who sees human beings as beads on an abacus.

A 4chan message-board in human form who approaches democracy like a 4am game of Minecraft. If this low-level Spider-man villain had a brass neck, it’d be worth billions.

You can see it in his eyes that he has a low opinion of himself.

Then again, he does despise unaccountable, unelected bureaucrats.

This self-styled super-forecaster (who wasn’t quite prescient enough to foresee that he would be forced to edit his own blog to make it look like he predicted coronavirus last year) is now so toxic that sepsis has taken the unusual step of distancing itself from him.

Cummings’ “the dog ate my homework” explanation for why he decided to drive 260 miles to his parents’ farm in Durham contained more holes than a round of golf.

In his attempt to provide a justification for conducting a 40mph eye-test jaunt, he inadvertently revealed not only that he absolutely broke lockdown rules, and road-safety and public urination laws, but also that he is a fandan of the highest order.

Safer where we are

“Move on” is the new mantra emanating from the chinless clutch of steaming hypocrites we now call the UK Government.

Every morning, a profoundly unserious politician is dispatched to the BBC to gracelessly dodge questions about Boris Johnson’s failure to sack the anti-Christ.

Move on they screech. Move on to what?

Given the progressively disastrous trajectory BoJo and Co has placed us on, I’m inclined to think we’d be far safer just remaining here.

We’ve gone from Brexit to the worst Covid-19 mortality rate in the world.

Whatever is next?

Normally, debating a single issue for days would get tedious and you’d be grateful to get on to something else.

But with this lot at the helm, I fear “moving on” may inadvertently bring about the end times.