I am 81 and neither shielded nor, apparently, vulnerable. I have no chronic ill-health conditions (apart from a tendency to run out of puff rather fast) so I don't get any "special treatment" but I have no wish to get the virus, for my own benefit and because NHS staff are run off their feet even without looking after me. Also, I suspect my lack of puff could make me vulnerable to the effects of the virus on the lungs.
In the absence of any direct official advice to me, I am using my own common sense. I have not been further than the pillar box at the end of the road for six weeks. My exercise is walking around the ground floor rooms of my home for fifteen minutes a day, and doing some gardening. I have not gone to the shops, I take my chances getting delivery slots from supermarkets like anyone else.
I haven't seen my children or grandchildren face to face for six weeks, except for one occasion when my son collected a prescription for me and we talked six feet apart for a while.
I speak to a neighbour occasionally over the garden wall, and on Thursdays evenings I stand in my front garden and shout greetings to other neighbours. Each day I speak to someone or other, (or two, or maybe three) on the phone, either family, friend or one or more of the dozen people on my Covid-chat contact list.
I haven't found it too stressful - in fact it can be quite pleasant to have no deadlines, no consulting the diary to check that I haven't forgotten I have to be somewhere.
Without the internet, my horizons would be narrower - like those of some elderly neighbours who haven't caught up with technology, and rely on the unholy trinity of the official Boris line, yellow press sensationalism, and what the channel moguls have decided to show on TV.