.........
Yeah, that didn't go so well.
The last few weeks kicked my ass. Like, straight up left me bleeding in the gutter. Holy crap.
I had my final paper due for winter quarter, and due to my aforementioned stress over how strictly my instructor graded, that paper nearly killed me. Then my youngest fell playing soccer at school and broke his humerus pretty badly. Add to that the COVID-19 situation here and, well, suffice it to say, I was done.
D. O. N. E.
My anxiety was through the roof. I was grouchy. I wasn't sleeping well because my brain wouldn't shut off. I was on the verge of tears all day erryyday. And I hated it.
And it got me thinking.
The last few weeks have been a struggle, yes. They've been stressful, to say the least. Things are crazy in the world right now, more so than usual. News feeds are filled with scary updates on death tolls, forced quarantines, and future projections that are far from comforting. Grocery stores are wiped out, people are fighting over and hoarding basic necessities (and preventing others from getting what they need). Here in Washington State, we are in a two-week mandatory lockdown of public spaces, which may extend longer if needed. Schools are closed for six weeks at minimum, potentially extending to the fall if the worst case scenario comes to fruition. Countless businesses have been forced to close their doors; those that can work from home are, and those that can't are facing dire financial situations. Our normal lives are completely disrupted and no one knows for how long. And it's unnerving.
But it's also absolutely vital.
And that's what I was mulling over for a few days. Weighing out my personal life stresses and anxieties in comparison to the bigger picture.
I had to ask myself if my level of stressball struggles were proportionate to what I was experiencing, or if I was snowballing my emotions unnecessarily.
The answer I've come up with is... yes.
It's both.
My stress was real, my feelings were valid. But they were also far more consuming than they needed to be. And I think I've finally sussed out why.
In terms of my personal stress, I basically haven't had a break since before the holidays. I've been burning the candle at both ends with school and writing and mom-ing and all of the various curveballs life likes to throw into the mix. My self-care routines took a hit in order to accommodate my overly-full plate, which of course only compounded my stress. I wasn't utilizing my outlets frequently enough to relieve stress and get back to center. And because of that, I've basically been at max capacity since... early November?
Then all hell breaks loose on a global scale.
Then my kiddo gets seriously injured and (at the time) his prognosis for treatment was unclear because medical facilities are maxed out and everything non-COVID-19 has to take a backseat.
And my lizard brain hit its limit.
And it became clear I had to sort out my shit before I cracked.
The first step was taking an inventory of what, exactly, was weighing on me. I don't know about you, but when life gets chaotic and things start piling up, my brain becomes a big ball of yarn. All the stressful thoughts and topics kind of blend together and it becomes one big overwhelming swirl that I can't even begin to address. So I started untangling the individual things one by one.
From there, I had to essentially prioritize what things to give my energy to, and what things needed to have a pin put in them for later.
My final paper? It was done. Turned in. Out of my hands. No longer worth carrying. (I did subsequently get a really good grade and glowing feedback from my instructor, which felt amazing!)
As far as kiddo's treatment, we just had to wait until he could be seen by the orthopedic surgeon at Swedish Pediatrics. We had that appointment on Monday, and little dude does not need surgery. That was a huge relief.
And in terms of the global pandemic we're facing and all of the fear and uncertainty that comes with it? I'm basically forcing myself into radical acceptance. I joke that as an introvert I've been preparing for this my whole life, that I'm built for social distancing. But deep down? I'm scared.
Not because I have to stay home and avoid people. That is quite literally my life goal 98% of the time.
No, I'm scared for my friends and family who are at risk because of health conditions or age. I'm scared for the catastrophic national and global economic implications. I'm scared for my husband who works as a first responder and puts himself at risk every time he's on shift. And I'm scared for the unknowns that are inevitably to come in the proceeding days and weeks.
In Washington State, I do not believe we have hit the top of our curve yet, and that honestly frightens me. I worry about vulnerable populations. I worry about those, like my husband, working at the front lines of this and facing direct exposure while helping others, and if/how our medical infrastructure will hold up. I worry about the psychological impacts this experience will have, especially for kids.
But, all those worries aside, I am aware that so much of it is beyond my control. So I am doing my part. I am practicing social distancing, otherwise known as the introvert's dream. I am figuring out plans for home education for my youngest, who is in elementary school and does not have the online learning options that my older kids do. I am meal planning and maintaining adequate food supplies (while not taking it too far out of greed or panic). And I am practicing radical acceptance despite everything feeling like one big ball of fiery chaos.
Things are nuts right now, y'all. Look out for each other. Be kind to each other, kinder than usual. Show gratitude and empathy. Find joy. We need it right now. Check on your neighbors. Wash your hands. Hug your kids a little tighter, because they're probably freaked out too. And for goodness sake, follow the social distancing and self-quarantine measures. While you may not be at risk, others are.
