Puzzling

When my 30-year-old sister-in-law died unexpectedly, my husband, son, and I met a few other close family members at a remote lake house in South Carolina where we spread her ashes. We spent a few days there, no cell service, no internet, just us and our feelings.

We found ourselves spending most of our time huddled over a complex jigsaw puzzle. I don't even remember what the image was but I remember how consumed by it I was. We didn't talk, we just worked away at noticing common details in color and line, examining the shape of pieces, and silently delighting when we made a match.

In our current state of quarantine, we again find ourselves drawn to jigsaw puzzles. Things are significantly more chipper than the above mentioned memory but I realized there are some pretty strong parallels.

I found this, well, quite puzzling.

What is it about big feelings and despair that draws me to jigsaw puzzles?

It gives us something to do. A way to pass the time. Helps prevent our minds from lingering on the hurt, confusion, and uncertainty. It requires just enough mental engagement to avoid getting caught in our feelings.

They are predictable. We know how it's going to end. It's going to end how it is supposed to. Complete, with everything in it's place.  it is something can control. We can decide where to start, what to work on next, what to save for last. The end result is the same and we can count on that but we also get to choose how we get there. Quite the opposite when dealing with grief or anxiety or depression.

It requires patience. Despite the control and predictability we are afforded, puzzles also require an immense amount of patience. There is no short cut. There is no way to rush the process. Much like dealing with big emotions. There's no way to jump to the end, we just have to give it time and attention here and there.

How do you spend your time when you're alone with your feelings?

We Are Not Brave

Image Credit: www.quotefancy.com 

I don't provide direct care to patients with COVID-19, I am the director at a child care center that provides care for the children of doctors treating COVID patients. Ever since the executive order to close non-essential businesses and stay home, my child care center has remained open and to provide care for hospital employees.

Everyday we get real time updates from the front lines - both the increasing intensity and the reassuring systems in place to protect people.

There is an amount of reassurance in having updates right from the source. But it is never lost on us what being that close to the action also means.

We recognize our increased risk of exposure. We recognize our increased likelihood of getting sick. We recognize the likelihood of one of the parents or child in our center community getting sick. And in all of that, the possibility of death, for us or someone we care about.

Despite all this, my teachers show up every single day. And they are playful, and loving, and truly present.

But let's be so clear, coming to work everyday is not an act of bravery. But we are not cowards.

Our sense of social responsibility is strong.
We understand how crucial it is for children to go through this uncertainty with familiarity and love.
We're heading out into the world to do our part to minimize the horrifying impact of this virus on our future.

Every single day when I wake up I have to remind myself that this is real.
People are getting sick.
People are dying.

I'm aware of the risk for me. For my two young children and my husband.
I'm scared every single day.
At least once a week I cry all the way home from work.

It's hard for me everyday to ask my teachers to keep coming to work, knowing they are afraid, knowing the risk is real.

But I do ask. And they do show up.

We are not brave, but we are not cowards. We just know this is bigger than us.

I wish I had your struggle

Remember that saying, "your trash is another person's treasure"? This is true now more than ever. The idea is not that there are a bunch of people waiting to pick through your garbage. It means that something you have right now could be quite valuable to someone else, even if it irks you.

I've been thinking about this a lot as we are quarantined and I'm spending far too much time on social media. Of course people are stressed. Of course it feels good to vent. Of course your feed should be filled with accurate reflections of what you think and how you feel.

But before you publicly post that next complaint, consider this:

• When your kids are driving you crazy because you're all stuck in the house together, someone else wishes they could be at home with their kids. 
• When you dread going to work, someone else wishes they had a job. 
• When you feel cooped up in your house. someone else wishes they had a safe place to stay. 
• When your partner/roommate gets on your nerves, someone else wishes they didn't live alone. 
• When you get annoyed about having to work from home, someone else wishes they had the resources to work from home. 
• When you or your child has to miss their birthday celebration, someone else is dying in a hospital from this virus and will have no more birthdays. 
• When you vent about your vacation getting cancelled and you're forced to stay home, someone else wishes they had the option to stay home and avoid exposure. 
• When you complain about your favorite restaurant being closed, someone else wishes they had enough food. 

This isn't a pompous reminder to be grateful for all you have. Of course you are grateful for what you do have. And you are entitled to feel frustration and temporary disappointment for certain. This is just a gentle caution to consider your audience when you express what irks you right now. Someone might read your struggle and wish it was theirs.

It's Fine

credit: https://giphy.com/explore/im-fine-thanks

In the past week, schools have closed, businesses have shut down, basic supplies are hard to find, we are restricted from gathering... and so much more. A lot of people are struggling with anxiety and depression. And that makes a lot of sense. This is hard to process and we don't know what is going to happen next.

My life is effected in several specific, immediate ways and the potential duration and severity of this situation could have many negative impacts. But I don't feel anxious or depressed at all. I feel calm, optimistic and energetic. I didn't think much of this at first. Maybe I'm just one of the lucky ones that is naturally resilient!

And then this week, Vicki Peterson of The Mighty wrote an article called "Feeling Calm in the Midst of the Coronavirus Pandemic Might be a Trauma Response". Oh. Damn. That's why this feels ok. I have so much practice carrying on when things are falling apart around me. My brain is actually wired differently.

I had a lot of feelings reading this article.

First, how lucky I am to have so much trauma that I can rally through a pandemic! Wait, lucky? That seems kinda messed up. I've never fault grateful for my trauma. But now, I can see how my resilience can be a gift in difficult situations. I am around a lot of people that are struggling right now. Remaining calm has allowed me to gather information, organize people, and make plans to help others.

Second, it hurts to be so seen. Every time my past trauma is brought into my current reality, it stings a little. This article was hard to read because it is right. I forget that little life stresses feel big to me and huge issues seem like a breeze. That's not normal. I've known for a long time that I'm most comfortable when things are a mess and life feels dysfunctional. I get anxious when things are good.

Third, a key point in this article is the eventual crash. Some day, it will knock me over all at once. But what I know from my past is that it probably won't happen this week, or this month, or even this year. It's like to happen years from now when I'm explaining to my children what it was like to live through this time, when I out loud admit all the hard parts, they will fall like pieces into one complete puzzle and I won't be able to look away. That's when the crash will come.

In this moment, I'm not oblivious. I'm not brave or unusual. I've just been in enough dark places that help me embrace these truths:  I know that things are bad. I know that bad things often get worse. I also know it's possible to come out on the other side.

Don't say the C-word

You know the one. It's March 19th, 2020. You know the c-word we're all tired of hearing. It's kept us in our homes, children are out of school, there's a shortage on toilet paper. And no shortage of advice right now.

Don't take in too much social media. Stay on social media to be connected.
Don't feel like you have to be a teacher to your child. Be sure your child doesn't fall behind.
Don't go out into public. Keep going to work.
Don't fall for the hyped up media. Take this seriously.
Practice. Self. Care. Don't know what that is right now?

Here's my advice for you: Don't take my advice. Do you.

This is hard for all of us and what makes you feel better and able to function is going to be different.

For me:

I like information. It's soothing for me to understand what is happening.

I take walks every day. Even just 15 minutes. It feels good to breath and feel a sense of infinite space outside.

I play hard with my kids. We dance, we wrestle, we play board games. I run a child care center providing care to a major medical system. It is beyond stressful right now. I need to set it down for an hour and just be a mom.

I dance all the way to work to as loud and empowering music as I can find. Currently loving "Salt" by Ava Max and "Don't Start Now" by Dua Lipa.

I cry all the way home from work. Because the days are long. And it makes me feel good. And it would be so weird not to feel something right now.

I cuddle with my husband. We have had a great sex life for the 14 years we've been together. But right now this feels different. I know I'm not fully present for him due to my stress. But I also need the calm physical contact to bring me back into my body.

I take a shower every day and put on make up and wear cute shoes and my favorite accessories. Because when I show up fully and fabulous, I don't feel like so much is being taken from me.

Naming these things that are providing me comfort and relief helped me realize I don't need anyone else's list of how to squeeze in a gratitude FB post every day, vigorous exercise, write a note to 5 people, and so on. If that's your list, good, keep doing it.

And if it helps you, don't say the c-word. But if it does help, feel free to say all the c-words right now.