[Trauma is coming. And there's little any of us can do about it. According to estimates from the world's leading infectious disease experts, Americans can expect anywhere from 100,000 to 240,000 deaths due to COVID-19—and that's if we do social distancing right. The number could easily go up from there. Trauma is coming for us, and we can either be debilitated by it or prepare. Bridget Geraghty is a licensed clinical social worker in Northeast Portland at Resolve Therapy, and in the following excerpt from her blog she shares some very smart, healthy ideas for dealing with and surviving the traumatic days to come.—eds.]
There is a book by Peter Levine called Trauma-Proofing Your Kids: A Parent’s Guide for Instilling Confidence, Joy and Resilience. In it he talks about how the nature of trauma is this: being overwhelmed by a scary situation you didn’t expect. And the feelings get stuck.
Americans, by and large, do not expect tragedy.
We expect low unemployment rates and thousands of movies at the touch of a finger and an LOL surprise doll at my doorstep within 24 hours.
So, I’m left in the difficult position of wanting to prepare you for tragedy. I want to march you toward the tragedy just a little bit—though I know you’d rather avoid it—because I want everyone I can help to avoid a raging case of PTSD (trust me: the prevention is worth a pound of cure.)
What you are scared of, is scaring you for a reason—because COVID-19 could happen to you or someone you know and it could be life threatening. Your brain is telling you to prepare—that’s why you’re feeling so anxious. So stop running to the next television show, indoor activity, or homeschool plan, and just sit with that. For just a minute. Right now. Just breathe.
Okay, notice where you feel that fear. It might be a churning in your gut, an elephant on your chest, a tightness in every muscle. Just notice. That. Right now.
Acknowledge it. Say hi. Say, “Okay, feeling. Hi, I see you.” Just do it. What do you have to lose?
You may then notice another feeling come up. Because underneath fear is usually sadness. Before you can get to the sadness, you may be mad at that fear for bothering you... for not going away because you want it to. Or just mad at the situation. Just notice all of it. And start to think of a place in your house where you can go and cry. Or scream into a pillow. Or pound your fists on the bed. Because if you feel the need to, at all, you need to. You need to get it out of your body. Because you’ve lost a lot already. And you need to practice how to let that move through you. You want to get good at it.
Next week you might lose more. Even hearing about a friend losing someone they love creates a feeling of loss in an empathic person. You. So let those tears flow whenever they want to come for whatever rhyme or reason they come—or no reason at all. And really, if you have the courage, let them flow with your people. With the ones you love. The tears will stop. When they need to stop.
It is so great that you’re keeping your kids busy with fun activities. Keep weaving those in. But leave space for the crying. This is their moment in history, too. Don’t think they don’t feel it. They’re like radio towers picking up the frequencies of the emotions around them. And if they start throwing tantrums—even the big kids—slow down, sit down, and say, “How’s this all going for you? Because it’s a lot for everybody.”
Great. Okay. That’s how you avoid the "overwhelm." By letting the feelings move through frequently so there isn’t a backup.
Here is how you keep yourself from being surprised by the coming wave of feelings. You accept that they are going to happen. You don’t overblow the threat, but you don’t underestimate it either. Play with that. Try to find that middle place of knowing it will be a lot and knowing that you can’t know exactly what it will be like. Accept that it will hurt. And that’s okay. You’ve experienced hurt before and you’re still here.
There is a second thing that Peter Levine talks about which is really important to consider if you are to steer away from trauma. The meaning you make about it really matters.
There is a lot of beautiful meaning being made right now. “We’re all in this together” is one of them. “We’ll get through this” is another. So keep those, but watch yourself for other meaning you might be making that doesn’t serve you. Like, “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” Because actually, yes you can. You can believe it. You don’t want to, but you can. It’s really, really intense—maybe more intensely emotional than you’ve ever experienced—and you need to lean on whomever you can to support you while you get through it. Even if it’s through a screen.
Here are some other meanings you might try to apply:
You can’t always get what you want. But you just might get what you need. And that’s actually enough. (Didn’t someone say something like that once?)
You’re being called to try a new way of relating to yourself and your feelings. You can be the kind, supportive partner, parent, friend to yourself, that you have always needed. One who stops, listens all along the way and doesn’t try to fix it. There is nothing to fix. All your feelings make sense. You can make it through all these feelings.
When you come out the other side, you may feel like your life is very precious and you may feel driven to do purposeful things to help others and the planet.
And here is my personal favorite:
You stand on the shoulders of giants. People around the world and over time have come through disasters with wisdom and love intact in their minds and primary in their hearts. You have all the tools they had, right inside you.
So take it one slow step at a time. One felt moment at a time. This too, one way or another, shall pass.