It seems pretty safe to say we are all in crisis mode right now. These days are difficult, that much is sure. Often we go through difficulties in private, but this is a strange, new shared trauma. The world is hurting. As we watch this pandemic unfold, as we mourn lives lost, we share this pain.
We are also individuals. Each of us has our own struggle and this crisis affects us all differently. How do we deal with the anxiety, the loss of loved ones, the loss of financial stability, and the loss of the future we once saw for ourselves?
Personal Crisis
At the beginning of March, I was thrown into a private crisis. As I mentioned in The Terrifying Prospect of Having Another Baby and Miscarriage and Picking Up the Pieces, we have been trying to give our son a sibling. I lost a pregnancy last year at ten and a half weeks. I was so relieved and overjoyed to be moving forward, when I found out I was pregnant in February of this year.
Then in early March, I started bleeding. Another miscarriage? Why does the universe hate me so much? Is this because I was an irresponsible little shit when I was young? If so, I’m sorry! Stop being so petty universe.
No. It wasn’t another miscarriage. It was an ectopic pregnancy. This was another non-viable pregnancy, but with a fun twist. If it ruptures, I could die.
Red alert! We are back in crisis. I have to deal with the pain of treatment and recovery. I also have to somehow learn to live with near constant anxiety over my health (I’m still not fully out of the woods yet, but hopefully soon).
Speaking of constant anxiety over my health, a week later, California began the Safe at Home order. While I was dealing with a personal crisis, the world slipped into a crisis of it’s own.
Global Health Crisis
Now, I’m anxious over my health, I’m anxious over my family’s health, and I’m anxious over a future I can’t see. I am now unemployed. It’s likely my son won’t start preschool this summer (something we were all looking forward to). I am getting older and now a future pregnancy would be high-risk for multiple reasons. I have been forced to accept the fact that I might never have another child.
Add to all this uncertainty, the fact that we live in a city. We have no outside space and no good place to walk. With all the parks and trails closed, my young child doesn’t get to go outside anymore.
In short, I’m pissed. We all have a reason to feel angry and anxious.
These problems are NOTHING compared to those of essential workers, or people worried about how to provide for their families, or people who have lost someone.
All I’ve really lost is my idea of what the future will look like. That’s something we all have in common.
A Foggy Future
For this last difficult year, it feels like I’ve constantly been in crisis. My body has been under siege and my plans seem to keep going up in flames. At least I’ve learned a couple tricks to help me live in constant turmoil.
We’re all experiencing a loss. It’s okay to grieve. People have had to cancel weddings and graduations. We’ve lost jobs. We’ve lost loved ones. No matter how small, a loss is a loss. If it was important to you, then it matters. It is okay to grieve for what you have lost. You’re allowed to grieve for the future that won’t be.
Once you accept the loss, you can adapt.
Pack Up Your Expectations
One thing that has really helped me is defensive pessimism. Just go ahead and assume things might not work out. Lower those expectations and you lower the chance of disappointment.
Some people like to have hope. Hope for the future soothes them. I do not find hope soothing. The biggest lesson I’ve learned this year has been to limit my expectations.
Fear and hope are both expectations. They are two sides of the same coin. They keep us from experiencing this current moment and being grateful.
Looks like the petty universe just bitch-slapped us into mindfulness. The future is unknown. All we know for sure is that it is probably going to look different than we expected.