october: work
As I taverse this month (survive an ongoing pandemic as a service worker in the throes of complete burnout) I’ve had to implement quite a few coping mechanisms. So while that might be good in terms of having enough fodder for this week’s essay, I am also physically, mentally, and emotionally struggling to write this damn essay…
Which is totally okay to admit! Good, even to be able to accept the precise tipping point that I’m at--that many of us are at as I understand through numerous conversations, tweets, and memes I’ve been seeing.
And we do have a choice; to cope or not to cope. I always forget that I could simply allow myself to fall apart, wither away, and stop showing up for work or answering any calls or texts. But instead, you and I, we keep on truckin.
Accepting my limitations and boundaries is part of my coping process. It’s become instinctual, but it’s still step one. Last week I suggested a quick journaling exercise to bring awareness to your current coping strategies and discover what’s working, what isn’t, and why. Noticing is part of the work. Self-awareness in this realm is vital because ultimately, only you know exactly what you need, what helps, and what hurts.
Sure, our loved ones can make astute suggestions or share their perspective, shining a light into the shadows of our minds, but the truth of your own wellbeing is ultimately within your own wisdom. And this requires radical honesty, self-awareness, and compassion for yourself. To use healthy coping mechanisms when the harmful ones are so fun, easy, and enticing is the biggest act of self-love you have.
Coping is self-care and it takes a strong will plus consistency to make good decisions a habit. It’s a lot of work to cope in a way that helps us move forward rather than simply put up with the present. IDK something about a girlboss thriving and not just surviving 💅
Coping in this healthy way is a very personal journey, and I don’t really know how to explore the work behind it without divulging a bit of my own trek through face masks and bath bombs to compression socks and icy hot.
My coping strategies are closely linked to my chronic illness diagnoses. Every time a doctor gave me a new label, it also came with more supplements and suggestions on how to keep symptoms at bay. Of course, when I was 16, I rolled my eyes, thinking it couldn’t be that serious. But eventually my illnesses would win out and I’d have to do as the doctor(s) ordered.
Since these illnesses are all chronic, there is no “cure,” all I have is “coping.” My health and wellness is one giant coping mechanism (I’m actually realizing this just now as I write--oop!). But our physical health is linked to our emotional and mental health; so in that regard, my diagnostic labels have given me ardent practice to sustain my well-being in all facets of life. Of course the onset of the Covid pandemic was stressful and disorienting, but I knew it would be about keeping my head above water and monitoring my welfare.
And that’s really what we should be doing even now as the pandemic has been “normalized.” The idea that certain activities are worth other folks’ lives is beyond disturbing, and yet a perspective that many have clearly settled on. Going out dancing is/was one of my absolute best coping mechanisms. Being unable to hit a dance floor for a year and a half has done numbers (negative numbers) for my mental health. How easily I used to shake the stress away…
Many of us lost vital emotional outlets--disconnecting from each other for the greater good has been just as detrimental (personally) as it has been beneficial (communally). It wasn’t easy and it certainly isn’t getting any easier. We just might be getting used to it, a little better at hiding our deepest despairs from ourselves. This is a troubling reality, but it’s one reason why I decided this month’s theme should be “coping,” because it seems as if now we must cope with our coping mechanisms if that makes sense…
We haphazardly structured our lives around this virus, unable to foresee how long such precedents would need to be in place to achieve communal safety. The pandemic feels like a chronic illness--there’s no cure, no end in sight even now with the vaccines. It’s been one wave of grief after another. How are we supposed to cope with our entire world flipping upside down? We’re still reeling from the initial shock and yet also having to deal with the shockwaves.
What does it look like to cope sustainably and for an indiscriminate amount of time? Personally, I don’t even know if I can handle the weight of this unending cycle of Covid-19, but I’m trying to find a position in which this weight doesn’t completely break my back.
Coping with my chronic illnesses and the pandemic has looked a lot like taking it one day at a time; reminding myself not only to pay attention to my needs but to also follow through on meeting them; and only worrying about the things that I can control. None of this is as easy as deciding to binge-watch Netflix and smoke weed all day--which can be important parts of the coping process, but cannot be the process itself.
Candidly grieving, allowing all feelings of despair and sorrow (and even joy and peace) to bubble up is part of the coping process. We’re witnessing overwhelming amounts of terror and it shows in the ways we’ve been treating strangers for the past 18 months. How can you cope with an emotion you don’t even allow yourself to feel? How do you cope with a reality you choose to deny?
The work is to cope--truly cope, not just numb or deal with all the hardships you face. Listen to your body, soul, and mind when they ask for what they need to handle these relentless times. How you react to the world is always your decision even if you don’t have an infinite amount of options.
