Out of the Abyss

These past few weeks have been particularly rough for many of us. Maintaining one’s equilibrium during war time and—yes—a continuing global health crisis is a challenge, to put it mildly. Throw in non-COVID-related diseases and deaths and you have the recipe for despair.

One doesn’t need to be a psychologist or psychiatrist to conclude that we’re a collective mess. During the first year of the pandemic, the United Nations reported that depression and anxiety rose 25% worldwide. Just as some of us were perking up, the war in Ukraine has pulled yet another rug out from under us. It’s too soon for hard data to reveal the full impact of this crisis on our psyches—anecdotally we know that the effect on our well-being isn’t good.

When I need to pull myself out of the abyss, I turn to neuroscience and social science research and begin writing.

Secondary Trauma

The common psychiatric disorder known as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) originated after the Vietnam War when veterans returned home broken and depressed. For years, this diagnosis was reserved for those who experienced direct combat, but we now know about secondary trauma and generational trauma. PTSD has expanded to include non-military populations as well as non-war-related events.

With our interconnected and fully-wired world, we’re all at risk for PTSD when combat erupts anywhere on the globe. Reports and images from the small country of Ukraine being attacked by its neighbor Russia rocks our sense of safety and security.

We’ve been grappling with two very uncomfortable feelings: uncertainty and helplessness. Often called an anticipatory machine, our brains hate uncertainty. Uncertainty equals danger. Our brains don’t know how to process the unknown—what to do, where to go.

By focusing on the aspects of our lives we can control, the uncontrollable feels less threatening. To some degree, we can control our cognitions and our behaviors. Most of us can control the food and drink we consume, how we spend our leisure time and with whom.

Overexposed

The correlation between media exposure to violence and decreased mental health is well documented. We watch or read about the horrors but can’t pull ourselves away, erroneously believing that we owe it to the Ukrainians to witness their suffering.

But keeping ourselves healthy physically and emotionally allows us to treat ourselves and others with kindness and compassion. When I’m depleted emotionally, I have little reserve for others and can be downright grumpy. Being glued to bad news helps no one. Making charitable donations, however small, and signing petitions can provide us a sense of purpose.

The Empath’s Dilemma

Both overexposure and burying our heads in the sand are extremes we want to avoid. Empathy is a beautiful human quality; like any attribute, however, it has a flip side. Empathy fatigue is real and can lead to overwhelm.

Empathy fatigue requires a reset. That reset could involve turning off the telly and turning up self-compassion and self-care.

Bad Timing/Good Tools

Coming on the heels of two years of pandemic stress has made this horrific conflict even more difficult to bear. Recharging with whatever tools you used to cope over the past two years, will help maintain your equanimity now.

Connecting with others is the number one strategy for bolstering resilience. The irony is that when we’re feeling down, we tend to self-isolate. Phone calls, videoconferencing and even old-fashioned in-person contact are now possible.

Being outside, exercising (even moderately), meditating, journaling, creating/appreciating art and music can keep us centered and grounded. Trying something new could also be helpful in lifting our moods. As with most remedies, one approach doesn’t fit all and often relief comes in the form of a combination of strategies—a cocktail, if you will. That cocktail might also include talk therapy and/or medications.

“Smile Though Your Heart is Aching”

As trite as this may sound, laughter is the best medicine for pulling us out of the abyss. Cultivating a humorous attitude even during bleak times is not only possible but essential.

Here’s one example of how this can be done. A relative of mine, Ina, died (of natural causes) during 2020. Because of the pandemic, only a few people were allowed to attend the funeral in person; the rest Zoomed in. During a family call following the service, a family member who didn’t participate asked our cousin who did, how many people were “live.” Without skipping a beat, our cousin replied, “Everyone but Ina.”

Obviously, there’s nothing funny about innocent people being slaughtered and homelands being destroyed; nevertheless, we can still find humor in our individual situations. Remember how much you laughed as a kid and a teen? Although attempts to quantify children’s laughter vs adults’ laughter are unreliable, one thing all the researchers and pollsters can agree on is that children laugh hella more than adults.

After researching antidotes to stress, I’ve concluded that pulling myself up and out is a process. My exercise routine is not what it used to be but I can still squeeze in a brisk-ish walk. Every time I connect with a friend, indulge in a creative outlet or laugh out loud, I know that I’m one step closer to coming up for air.

“Humor is just another defense against the universe.”

—Mel Brooks