Survival School

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m in survival mode at school right now.

And that little prepositional phrase, “at school” is so much more important than its brevity and simplicity suggests.

You see, six years ago, that sentence would not have ended with that phrase even though school was the source of the stress. Because survival mode in one area of my life unerringly expanded to be survival mode in all areas of my life. Stress at work blossomed and grew, filling every crevice of my life. In times of intensity at school, I brought both literal and figurative work home with me every night and double on the weekends.

There were no boundaries.

I learned something about survival mode during the year of tear-stained cheeks. I was unwittingly enrolled in a survival boot camp that year, as I was literally fighting to regain some sort of life again in the midst of madness.I discovered that even though I could not entirely avoid situations that called for survival mode, I could limit their influence.

I could set boundaries.

Survival mode happens to us all. It is characterized by periods of overwhelming intensity that require that your world shrink to accommodate the demands of the stressor. Survival mode can be triggered by something as happy as the birth of a baby and the lack of sleep collides with immense responsibility and never-ending need. It can come on the heels of a loss, a death or divorce wiping out any sense of normalcy and the trauma short-circuiting any coping mechanisms.

Or, as with my current state of survival, it can come as a perfect storm of factors. In this case, two weeks of being drained by the flu combined with crazy deadlines at work and a lack of planning time coinciding with my husband being out-of-town and a stretch where Atlanta was impersonating a Seattle winter, collided to create a maelstrom of stress.

So at work right now I’m in complete survival mode. My blinders are on, my head is down. I’m just focused on trying to get it done without neglecting to breathe in the meantime. But apart from one cryfest on the way home from work on Tuesday (of which there is thankfully no footage) and some sleep interrupted by anxiety-fueled dreams, the survivor mode has been confined within the walls of the school.

The boundaries are holding.

Here is some of what I learned in survivor school. Maybe it can help you next time you find yourself in survival mode.

A Space For Everything

Compartmentalize. And then compartmentalize some more. Just because things are falling apart in one area of your life, doesn’t mean it’s all bad. It’s easy to believe that if we blur the lines and give whatever the stressor is more energy, more time that we will be able to chip away at it. But the truth is that most of the time, allowing to spread only poisons other areas and doesn’t really help the original issue. When you’re in it, be in it. But also allow yourself moments away. Give yourself the gift of respite.

Institute a Catastrophizing Ban

It may suck, but it’s rarely as bad as we make it seem when we’re overwhelmed and under-rested. Take a step back. Breathe. Identify and take one step at a time. And make sure to celebrate any progress you make. Remember that it may be the world’s biggest molehill, but it’s still not a mountain.

To Thine Own Self Be Kind

Allow yourself a good cry. Pamper yourself with a moment alone or a special treat. Prioritize sleep; its lack makes everything harder. Don’t be too scared to ask for help or too proud to receive it. If you’re physically able, get up and move. Go outside. Peek at the stars. They have a way of putting everything in perspective.

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Let the Little Things Go

When you’re in survival mode, your world has to temporarily shrink down to the necessities. It’s okay to neglect non-essentials so that you can focus on what is critical. And you define what is critical. For me this past week, critical has meant time to read in bed with Tiger curled up by side. And to make that happen, I ignored tasks around the house.

In survival mode, you’re not going for perfection, you’re working on making it until the next day. And as long as you do that, call it a success.

See the Light

Survival situations don’t persist forever; don’t let your survival mode become a way of living. Recognize when the pressures lift and expand your world again.

Drained

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’ve always known I was introvert.  My “safe” space has always been a quiet nook with a book.  I recharge through time in nature and carefully plan downtimes between social events.

I’ve always known I was an introvert.

But I’ve just now made a connection.

 

The beginning of the school year is hard on everyone – parents, students and teachers. But I’ve always seemed to find it more difficult than some. Yes, my feet are tired at the end of the long days and my voice cracks from overuse.

But I also inevitably feel drained for the duration of August.

Fragile and bit raw.

Now, sure, I’m not sleeping enough and overwork is a given at the beginning of the year.

But there’s more to it than that.

I have 120 new people that fill my days, filing into my room in groups of 30 every 54 minutes. I have dozens of new coworkers to get to know and hundreds of parents with whom to work. I have no moments of solitude once I enter the school, simply times of noisy and less noisy. In front of the class, I’m animated. Acting a role for the sake of connection and the lesson. In the halls, I act and interact.

I’m good at all of this – the teaching, the managing, the multi-tasking.

But it comes at an expense.

Because for any introvert, being social takes energy.

And navigating new social situations requires even more.

 

Looking around my classroom on Friday, I could see the effects of the sustained efforts on my students that seem to be of an introverted nature. Like me, they were drained from the energy required to be in an always-on environment. Like me, their nervous systems were on overload and were demanding some quiet and alone time.

 

I just made this connection between August and exhaustion yesterday while teaching. This morning, I tried (emphasis on tried) to explain it to my very extroverted husband. He just didn’t get it. He wants to be able to fix things and gets frustrated when it’s not an easy fix and, even worse, one he can’t understand.

Like always, I’ll adjust and learn to find the balance in an extroverted world. But for now, I’m just reminding myself that August doesn’t last forever and I will be recharged again soon.

But first, it’s time for some Motley Crue tonight! Hey, no one ever said that introverts can’t be headbangers:)

 

 

Divorce Tool Box

Posted on by stilllearning2b

In my second year of college, I took a psychology of grief class. I signed up because I needed another psych credit but also to help me understand my own experiences at that point with grief and loss. One of the first images in the textbook was the Holmes-Rahe Stress Inventory, a scale that quantifies stressful life events with a score of 1-100. I was no stranger to the instrument; my counselor mom had dozens of copies (and versions) in the books that were scattered about the house. But that day, perhaps bored with the dry lecture, I looked at the scale differently. I wondered what experiences listed on the page I would have. I feared the big one, the 100 point Death of a Spouse. In my mind, that was the only item on the list that would destroy me. The others seemed inconceivable or inconsequential.

A brief note here – Some versions of the scale include death of a child, obviously near the top. This particular one did not, a question I raised with my professor on that day.

I noted that divorce was listed as second only to death of a spouse with a score of 73. That didn’t make sense to me. Perhaps because I thought it would never happen to me (I was three years in to the relationship with my now ex husband at that point and I could not fathom one or both of us choosing to end it), but I just couldn’t understand what could be so devastating about divorce.

I guess the universe wanted to show me I was wrong.

Using the scale that was in my textbook that day, I faced:

73 divorce

53 personal illness

44 major behavior change in spouse

39 new family members

38 financial hardship

30 foreclosure

29 in-law problems

29 change in habits

25 housing change

19 change in recreation

16 change in sleep

15 change in eating

15 change in family get togethers

For a grand total of 425 points. The sirens start to go off at 300 points. And, if you add infidelity, most scales place that around an 81, which would raise my total to a lofty 506. I probably should have been escorted into a padded room at that point. I would also add a few more points for a tsunami divorce, which is somewhere between a death and a divorce. I looked, they haven’t studied the impact of bigamy. I hope that they never need to.

What the scale in my textbook didn’t make clear is that there is no life stone unturned when it comes to divorce. It. changes. everything.

And change, especially unwanted and unexpected change, is stressful.

If there’s ever a time in life when you have to use everything you have at your disposal, it’s divorce.

You can inventory your stress and tally up your debits but you can also inventory your personal tool box and count up your implements of healing.

Here’s what I had in my Divorce Tool Box. Maybe yours looks a little different.

The Extra Battery – Fortitude

There’s no way around it. Divorce is draining. It goes on and on. And on. Just when you think the struggle is over, something will pop up and make you go again. A huge part of getting through is simply getting through, having the ability to persist even when the path is tough. So, pack an extra battery. Hell, pack two:)

The Hammer – Determination

It’s easy to fall apart in divorce. You feel beat down and the instinct may be to roll over and play dead. There is certainly time for acceptance, but there is also time for determination. If you want a better life, you have to build it. Pick up that hammer and make it happen. Just look out for your thumb!

The Tape Measure – Attention

There are a ton of details in divorce. Personally, I think everyone who has experiences it should qualify as a paralegal. There will be times when you have to push the grief and anger aside, pull out the tape measure and pay attention to every detail in every document. Remember, measure twice, cut once. Make sure you know what you’re signing.

The Level – Balance

It’s easy for the divorce to overwhelm your life until it becomes your entire life. Needless to say, that’s not healthy (or much fun). The level in your tool box is to remind you to find balance. Or to check to see if that picture you hung where the wedding photo once was is level:)

The Spackle – Humility

You’ll screw up. You’ll create a hole where there wasn’t supposed to be one. You’l inadvertently bang up someone else as you try to aim at your ex. When you reach for the spackle, you admit that you made a mistake and show that you’re trying to repair it. If you can, buy the spackle that starts pink and dries white. That way you know when your mistakes are corrected:)

The Business Card – Assistance

You can’t do it all. When you’re overwhelmed or stuck, reach for that business card with the name and number of an expert. Call them. And then listen to them. Don’t let your ego get in the way of your healing.

The Liquid Nails – Confidence

You will have to make some big decisions. Do it with confidence. Pull out the permanent adhesive and believe in your decision. Deep down, you know what’s best for you. Make it stick.

The Saw – Humor

When it all starts to overwhelm, reach for the saw and cut it down to size. There’s nothing like a little laughter to put everything into perspective.

That’s my tool box. What’s in yours?

Our Bodies Lie to Us

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Our bodies lie to us.

They send out hormones announcing an imminent threat to our well being when we take the podium or when we get into an argument with a loved one. Our heart rate increases at the thought of taking a test, and our immune system is compromised because of a noisy environment. We assume we are in danger because our body tells us so.

Our bodies lie to us.

They interpret so much stimuli (internal and external) as a threat and they respond with a cascade of physiological changes and adaptations that are referred to as the flight or fight response. It begins in the amygdala, a rather primal region of the brain that responds to perceived dangers. The hypothalamus taps the adrenal gland on the metaphorical shoulder to let it know to release adrenaline which leads to a release of cortisol, known familiarly as the stress hormone. Your brain doesn’t want to make you stressed; it wants to keep you alive. Click here to read the rest and learn how to outsmart the lie.

Lost and Found

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Something about the new year puts me (and I’m sure many others) in a reflective mood. Four years ago, I was just starting to awaken from the life-of-the-living-dead state that was my norm during the divorce. At that time, I was feeling the great losses in my life and I had not yet truly begun to build my new life. Now, I can see the bigger picture of what was lost and now has been found.

Lost – My Memory

The divorce was a blow to my synapses. I was shocked to find that my usual sharp memory was faded and fuzzy, even about recent events. I struggled to remember facts from the months before the divorce and I found that I had difficulty forming new memories. I misplaced things, couldn’t keep students straight and didn’t retain books or movies. As a corollary, I suddenly found that I stumbled my way through more difficult math problems that used to be simple.

Found – Patience and Empathy

I’ve never been one known for patience, especially when I have to repeat myself. When my memory was faulty, I gained more empathy and patience for others around me who also had trouble remembering things, regardless of the cause. Even now that my memory is pretty much back to normal (except for a few months that are still a mixture of hyper-real flashes and vague confusion), I still remember what it was like to be confused and unable to retain information.

Lost – My Sense of Security

I lost my security in a literal sense; I had less than nothing to my name once he left. But, even worse, I lost the feeling of security. I had been living with a man that I thought had my back, financially and otherwise. All of a sudden, that backup was gone and I felt very vulnerable and scared, often a paycheck away from disaster.

Found – Confidence in My Earning Potential

In my former life, I used to bring in extra money through tutoring and through selling lesson plans. I did okay, but there was a definite ceiling to those activities. After he left, I had to revise my view of myself and I learned that those limits were self-imposed. I’m still working on building my nest egg, but I am much more confident in my ability to make it happen.

Lost – My Hair

I faced the trifecta of tress troubles with the divorce. I first noticed that my hair was falling out in handfuls. For the first time, I had to buy a hair trap for the shower drain. To make matters worse, my hair pretty much stopped growing. In fact, it only started again about two years ago, which means I now have a bunch of 2″-3″ long pieces interspersed with the longer strands. And then, just to be extra cruel, my first gray hairs appeared within weeks of him leaving. Could be a coincidence, especially because supposedly stress does not cause gray hair, but I’m not so sure.

Found – Peace in Aging

I may not allow the gray to show, but having my hair defy me at 32 actually gave me some peace with the whole aging process. I developed a relaxed attitude about the whole thing. And now, when the wrinkles are showing or the gray is peeking out around the temples, I just see it as a sign of a life lived.

Lost – My Appetite

Some people overeat when they are stressed. I’ve always been the opposite; my digestive tract shuts down completely. As a result, I lost over 20 lbs in those first few weeks, which led to a cardiac arrhythmia and came close to putting me in the hospital. I lived with my friend and her sick and premature infant that year. We joked that her job was to fatten up both of us. It took a couple years, but I finally put the pounds back on.

Found – An Appreciation For Food

I used to see food only as a neccessity. Now, I see it as nourishment on many levels. I had many people help me to eat that first year and now I like to feed others. I have come to enjoy the ritual and symbolism of food as well as the preparation and nutrition.

Lost – My Sex Drive

My body felt leaden, dead and my mind was completely oblivious to members of the opposite sex. I remember being scared that it was gone for good, as though it was something I could only feel with my ex. It seemed like a cruel joke to be single and have no interest in mingling. Luckily, as I eventually learned, that was not the case.

Found – Comfort in Being

Without the distraction of men those first several months, I spent a lot of time alone. I learned to be comfortable with myself, by myself. I discovered that I didn’t always have to be doing something; I could simply be.

Lost – My Home

We had a home that we had purchased ten years prior. We had spent countless hours creating the home we wanted, from a new kitchen to a dream deck. In addition, I had a one acre garden that was my passion.

Found – Peace With Imperfection

I used to be a classic perfectionist, always wanting things to be just so. With the loss of the home and my nomadic and limited living quarters for the next few years, I learned to give up on the idea that things need to be perfect. Now, I can find perfection in a chipped plate:)

This list could continue forever. I lost so many things, from my husband, to my home and even my beloved dogs. My possessions were gone. My iTunes library was erased. I lost the family I had with my in laws and the shared history with my ex.

I lost so much, but I found even more. I credit that with two things that I refused to lose in the divorce – my sense of humor and my hope that things could get better. And with those two things, anything is possible:)