When Adrenaline Fades: Strategies and Tips to Help get Through the Ick

There has been a lot written these days about ways to cope with these difficult and uncharted times. I wrote my own hope based blog post about looking for the good in my previous post.  http://hope4life180.com/blog/some-thoughts-on-covid-19-trauma-and-a-lesson-from-frozen-2 

​But as this drags on, it gets harder to look for and see the good because there is so much "suck" in the way. I thought I’d take the time to write again and share some of the experiences and lessons I learned as I dealt with my own loss of normal that was created by my long term illness.  I think  many of these might apply in our lives now when almost everyone has lost their sense of normal.

I belong to several groups for patients and families with Transverse Myelitis. As I watch more and more new members join, it breaks my heart a bit each time there is a new person who introduces themselves. It’s always basically the same with only a few of the details varied. “Hi I’m _________. I/my__________ was just diagnosed with Transverse Myelitis. I/They had a lesion at ______ level of the spinal cord and am experiencing _________ symptoms. I/They have had __________ for treatment. Is there anything else I/they should be doing? What else can I do to help? Will I/they ever be able to ___________again? Does the ____________ ever go away?”

​I remember my own questions. At the beginning of loss there is a denial that serves to insulate us from the blow. “No, it can’t be that bad. This will go away on its own. This will not last.” It is fueled by an adrenaline that allows us to keep plowing through the initial pain. I think that is what happened with many people at the beginning of this Covid crisis. They simply could not grasp the entirety of the situation. It couldn’t really be that bad. It certainly won’t happen here. But it was, and it did.
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There comes a time when our reality becomes all too real. It usually coincides with the understanding that the initial high level adrenaline cannot be sustained. For me, that time was when I realized I was not getting better. I had to accept that I had to let go of my old life was and move forward to create a new one. I think that’s where we are right now as a country. We are realizing there is no quick fix. This is going to get worse before it gets better. The “let’s make this fun vacation thinking mode” has been replaced by “This really sucks. I want my old life back.” With my own situation, that was my valley of darkness. It is a process and there are no shortcuts. But if we see it through, there is hope and light to be found. Here are some of the strategies I found helpful in navigating the uncomfortable path of new normal.

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You have to accept that this sucks and own it. 

​That part is crucial. There is no shortcut. Cry. Scream into a pillow. Vent to a trusted friend. It is the only way through. We must acknowledge and own our pain. Pretending it is not there does not make it go away. It only gives it a chance to grow out of sight until it blindsides us in a moment of unexpected rage or misdirected anger. Facing it head on is the battle that gives us the key to get to the other side. But we can’t stay there. Think of the song line, “When you’re going through hell, keep on moving”. I cannot stress this enough. It is the difference between bitter and better. I have seen it time and time again from those in my groups. Those that cannot or will not accept their new reality are the ones most lost, most without hope, and most angry. All the feelings of loss, anger and suck are completely normal. It is the staying there holding onto them that causes the problem. At some point we have to say to ourselves, “Yes, this sucks and it is hard, but I cannot change it.” We can then begin to move forward and try to figure out what we can change. 

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​Find what you can still do and embrace it.

​When I first was unable to work, my body was new to me. It wouldn’t let me do what I wanted to. Pacing and planning were new concepts for me, but my brain was still craving routine and a sense of accomplishment, so I found ways to create it. It started very simple. I had tons of paper I had collected over the years for various crafting and printing projects. They had all become a jumble in varied crates, which made it hard to find what I wanted when I needed it. My goal was to sort through one crate a day. It may seem little, but it was the start I needed to take my life from meaningless to meaningful. I had a “job”. One crate a day. Then it became one box of misc stuff left over from my moves. Then I moved on to organizing the closet. One small step lead to a major accomplishment I could be proud of. There was power in completion, and what I needed most was to feel a sense of power over my life. I couldn’t control my body, but I could control my closet, one step at a time. In our current situation, I have enjoyed the challenge of cooking with what I have on hand. It has been a tad too rewarding. My next challenge is counting calories while cooking.....

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​Create a new routine.

Those early first days were a constant struggle. After spending the majority of my adult life at a breakneck speed juggling no less that 4 or 5 balls at a time while riding a unicycle in the wind, I was now still. I shudder when I remember the early days of the journey. The silence. The wandering aimlessly. I slowly learned that if I was going to survive the silence with the majority of my brain cells intact, I had to create some familiar touch points throughout my days. I had to self impose some limits. I would allow only certain shows, and then I would be active. Therapy exercises completed came with reward of of another show. I tried to have set meal times. Then I would start on the project of the day. And then I might nap. Learning that rest was actually a productive part of my day is still a concept I struggle with, but I’m learning.

Your days will include very different things with juggling job requirements, kids schooling, meals etc, but the principles remain the same. I'd recommend a weekly schedule. I live by my planner; partially because I can’t remember anything these days, but mostly because it gives me a visual. It helps me to feel like I’m actually accomplishing something. If you are home with kids, I’d encourage you to create a list of things to you want and need to do for the upcoming week. Then let the kids help pick what to do each day. Obviously, plans can be easily changed, but having something to look forward to is a good thing. And don’t forget to make the weekend different. That help makes it feel special and more “normal”. 

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​Reach out

​In my darkest moments as I mourned old me, I felt like my life had no meaning. Sure, organizing stuff gave me a sense of power, but that wasn’t meaningful. I decided the only thing I could do was to reach out to those in my TM groups that were hurting and try to be there for them. I wanted to show up for them as I would want someone to do for me. It was simple empathy. It worked. It gave them the ear and compassion they needed and boomeranged back to me. I took my eyes off of myself. It was the classic helping others that in turn helped me. That’s when I started the blog. I wanted to show others we can do this together. In sharing with them, it forced me to reframe my own situation, and look for the hope. So many people overwhelmed with the suffering and loss are now reaching out by sewing masks, writing letters, and doing whatever they can to make life just a little better for those around them. This is where the change really begins. If you find yourself feeling stuck and edgy, check in on someone else. I promise it will be a win-win!

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​Move.

​It is important to state that most of this did not happen for me overnight in a fast food kind of way. “Yes, I’ll have an order of empathy with a side order of normal and acceptance to go”. There were times when my own self loathing got the better of me and left me curled up on the bed. That’s when I knew I needed a jumpstart. The best way I found to do this was for me to get outside. Mind you, this was no easy task. I wasn’t walking well. At that point I was using an all terrain stroller with weights in the bottom as my walker. I had to allow myself to be seen doing this as I walked the dogs. I would put on either motivation music or book, and walk. Not fast. Not far. But I went. Sometimes I went where I knew I would be seen. It would prick my pride, but I knew it was part of the hard work of healing and rebuilding I needed to do. Sometimes that was too much, so I’d go down a trail where I could walk and cry alone with the pups. Every single time, I felt better when I came back. EVERY TIME. Nature is healing. Choosing to spend time in it, is to give yourself some of its power.

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​Create a new normal with old you

This is one of the final stages of the transformation from caterpillar, to messy dark chrysalis, to the butterfly. Find your butterfly. For me it was writing. Whether it was the blog or working on the Purple Moose books, it was something I could still do. It was part of old me that I could still hold onto and embrace. It still felt like me and filled me up. Even if we are trapped at home, there are still parts of old life that we can still embrace to help ground us. 

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​Learn something new.

​This is where it starts to get fun. Without the weight of the earlier steps, there is a freedom in realizing that there is opportunity for new and wonder right in front of us. That project you always wanted to start, but didn’t have time. Finishing that book (writing or reading). Learning to cook or dusting off an old instrument and increasing your skill. There are so many opportunities we miss we when get stuck at the first grief stage. Hope is the reward at the end of it. As I said in my previous post, this is not the life we had planned. It may look different and messy in ways we have never expected or wanted. But if we can push through the yuck, there is hope to be found. 

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​Be prepared to do this whole process, or at least parts of it, more than once.

​For even the heartiest warriors, the road will inevitably wind its way back to this same crossroad. I remember the first time I found myself back at the same point thinking, “But I already dealt with this. I already accepted it. Why am I here again? I shouldn’t have to do it again.” Nope. Grief doesn’t work that way. Because that is really what we are dealing with. The grief of loss. It’s not a one and done kind of thing. Years after facing and coping with a loss, there will still be moments that catch us off guard where you realize you have to push through the pain again. The good news is that we eventually develop an emotional muscle memory that makes the trips less frequent and the battle a little easier. It’s like playing a new video game. The first battles are hard, because we haven’t learned the tricks yet. But once we figure it out, it does get easier. There are very few things that are easy at first. That is the way learning works.

​We cannot just jump from ick to hope. We have to be willing to work through the process. But if we persevere and do the hard work, there is good that can come from even awful circumstances such as this. Gratitude is at the heart of this journey, but it doesn’t happen automatically. Being grateful for what we had or have is an end product of going through the steps. Missing school, sports, friends, special events, losing people; it all sucks! We shouldn’t feel guilty for having honest and normal reactions to something that hurts. We are allowed to struggle. We are allowed to feel the pain of our circumstances. But we also need to encourage ourselves to grow through it. It isn’t easy. It isn't pretty. It is uncomfortable. But it is the only way we can emerge as a better person and give value and meaning to the struggle. 

​PS: For the record, even though I have learned all of these, and found my way through loss before, this is still new for me. I write this to not only offer strategies to you, but to myself, as I relearn what I must do to move forward to find hope.