How are you holding up? These are uncertain times indeed.
When I go to the grocery store, I like to play a game. Which line is moving the fastest? I scope out the cashiers, check out how efficient they are, how much they’re talking with their customers, and how full the carts are of the people in line ahead of me. I’m talking about the sophisticated, mathematical equation that predicts grocery-store line waiting time. Even when the lines are long, I can tolerate it if my formula predicts an acceptable outcome. In a way, I’m inserting a degree of control over a situation which might otherwise cause internal stress.
The current situation we’re facing is challenging, because there are many uncertain variables which seem to change on an hourly basis. I haven’t been able to figure out the mathematical formula that tells me when life goes back to normal. My gut feeling, is that this is going to be a long line.
I tried asking google home to set an alarm for when COVID-19 will be over, a reassuring voice informed me that the alarm was set for 7pm the next evening. If only it were so easy.
So there are many things I’m not able to control, but there are others that I know I can. I’m doing my best to create a semblance of normalcy in my daily working life. I have been able to learn to use video conferencing for counselling appointments. Not bad for an ol’ dog. It may have been stressful, but I think I’ve got it.
As for outside of work, I’m going to focus on those things I can control. Doing art, organizing my house, planting an abundant garden. I’m even thinking about trying to make crumpets from scratch.
Let’s make the best of this, we’d love to hear what fun things you’ve been doing to cope.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
When I was a little girl, I was sure that there were monsters in the basement. I remember running full speed up the stairs, away from the dark cellar so that the monsters didn’t get me. They were huge, scary and dangerous. Avoiding it kept me afraid. Had I faced them, I would have discovered it was just the furnace making a weird noise. Slightly unsettling but not scary at all. Certainly not unmanageable.
Sometimes when we don’t want to feel something, it’s easier to compartmentalize our emotions. We run away from them so that they can’t hurt us. The problem with this is that our fear of them is usually greater than the pain they can cause us. We feed our fears by looking away. They get their power from silence and being ignored or hidden.
Apparently there’s a toilet paper shortage in Nova Scotia. When under stress, we run the risk of going into survival mode, taking care of ourselves while losing sight of the larger picture. If I run out and buy a month’s worth of toilet paper tonight, chances are the old man who lives down the road who has run out will get none.
That’s the difference between community thinking and individual survival.
If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together – African Proverb
Most civilians are not trained to work in high risk emergency situations. It’s times like this that we truly appreciate those who are trained in risk management and emergency response. They specialize in big picture thinking, operating from a position of prevention, resource and risk-management, and de-escalation.
A large percentage of police work, for example, involves talking to people while calming volatile situations…
Step away from the toilet paper Ma’am…
Ultimately, we all do better when we approach any situation from the perspective of the needs of the group. A panic response to stress might be a natural human instinct or response. Learning how to cope with these instincts allows us to connect with our community in a supportive and meaningful way.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
When I was young, my parents would take me and my three siblings on road trips to visit the East Coast. We loved exploring Nova Scotia’s beaches and would spend hours looking for ‘beach treasures’ that had been left behind by the tide. It’s a long drive from Toronto, and eager to start our holiday, we tried to make the trip with as few detours as possible.
On one of these trips, we were on a remote road in Nova Scotia when my younger sister complained of feeling nauseous.
“Are we there yet?” she asked, holding her belly.
If we were smart, we would have pulled over quickly. Unfortunately, we didn’t. Minutes later, all I can say is that we all got an unpleasant lesson in wind velocity and splatter patterns.
Had we paced ourselves better, this likely could’ve been avoided. Taking needed breaks is very important, even though it makes the trip a bit longer.
I recently spoke to my good friend Finka about pacing myself at work, and I was wondering aloud about when I’d know when I’d “arrived”. At what point would I get that sense of accomplishment that the job was done, and I could take my foot off the gas for a while and not have a never ending “to do” list in my head.
“Ah, that’s the myth,” she smiled wryly, “It doesn’t matter how successful you are, in any business, each success brings more challenges. Challenge is the one thing that’s constant”
I thought long and hard about this. I’ve been operating on the principle that one day, I will arrive. My job will be done. I realize now that life simply isn’t like that. The more I do, the more I open the possibility for more to be done.
So what if recovery is like that? It’s a steady stream of building, growing and understanding. Each day we evolve into a better version of ourselves, whether we have PTSD or not. If that’s the case, the need for pacing becomes incredibly important. Maybe the point is not arriving, but the journey itself. I’ll need to be sure to stop and enjoy the view, taking a breather when needed.
What if we remind ourselves to take those precious moment to appreciate the little things. Thoughtful interactions, humorous moments, small victories. These are indeed the stuff life is made of.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
It’s not uncommon to hear people say that there’s no recovery from PTSD.
Well, in my mind, that’s simply not the case.
It’s true that you’ll never go back to being exactly the same person you were before you were injured. But when you think about it, how many of us are ever the same as we used to be? As we learn and grow in life, we can’t help but grow from our experiences. What I’m referring to is post traumatic growth.
Sure, life might have been easier if I hadn’t logged seven years working in one of Canada’s largest penitentiaries. I might not have been injured. But then I wouldn’t be the person I am today, and I’m kinda liking her.
Don’t know about you but I certainly don’t want to go back to being my high school self (although the flare jeans with Canada flag inserts were quite fetching).
I definitely do not want to relive the angst of my twenties.
I may have a few more bumps, and scars on me now, but they serve as a testament to the fact that I have truly lived. I have a massive scar across my right knee that I got while building a school in Tanzania. I’m proud of it, and in no way want to erase that experience.
If I work too hard my muscles flare up – reminders of the need to pace myself better. Areas where I have previously been injured will always be vulnerable during times of stress. They serve as my personal barometers for health. I thank these symptoms for gently reminding me when I’m not paying close enough attention to my needs or limits.
I guess I’m saying that I work hard each day to keep the superwoman cape in the closet. It’s not easy because it feels oh so comfortable. I try to simply focus on having a good day, going to bed at night feeling satisfied with whatever small thing I might have been able to accomplish.
So, it’s true, you will never be the same person you were before. It is possible, though, to become someone capable of living a rich and full life, wiser for all the things you have experienced.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
