Degreiving and Resetting

Boldly Resilience

There are times in our lives when life is overwhelming. There are days when the only thing to do is stay home in oversized sweats and be open to intuition on what to do next on the path to healing.

I read the sign on the door of our dog’s vet: Team meeting in progress. Clinic opens at 8:30 a.m. How could that be, I wondered with irritation. I had an 8 a.m. appointment. I returned to the car and checked the appointment date on my phone. The appointment with a doctor I didn’t book was scheduled for tomorrow. Sigh

By the time we arrived home, I was exhausted. Taking our dog Bodie to the vet is always a stressful and exhausting experience because he is anxious and reactive to other dogs. Today, I set the alarm an hour early so we could have the day's first appointment, and he wouldn’t likely encounter another dog.

I sat down at the kitchen table and started to cry. I am now someone who can’t keep her days straight, I thought. I took pride in the fact that I could keep my days straight, unlike so many seniors I know. I told my husband I didn’t want to go to our Village Christmas party without him and my dear friend, who couldn’t attend either. He suggested I come with him to the dentist, and we shop afterward. I cried because I had no idea what I wanted to do. The only thing I felt like doing was staying home in my sweats. I had no inclination to celebrate or even get dressed. I imagined attending the party and making small talk while holding back tears.

Then, as things often proceed, one thing led to something that I didn’t know was still hanging out in my psyche: I despaired about the pain my daughter suffered after her cancer surgery. As her mother, it was agony to see her hurting so badly. Anger stirred when I remembered her pain could have been avoided if they had given her adequate pain meds to begin with. I grieved the loss of the beautiful fall season I spent in a cast while my foot was healing from a break. Once that was healed and I was able to walk outside again, I was blindsided by a gastrointestinal issue yet to be diagnosed that required constant monitoring, changes in my diet, and planning before leaving the house.

I sobbed thinking about how Donald Trump is planning to destroy the US government, which isn’t perfect but still admired worldwide. I’m sad but also outraged that he would nominate an incompetent candidate with alcohol problems, who ran two small organizations into the ground and, by his own mother’s admission, is a user and abuser of women to lead the Department of Defense and expect our distinguished military to follow his lead. The FBI, say what you will, is considered one of the best, if not the best, intelligence services in the world. Trump's nominee wants to close it and then use it to investigate and jail anyone Trump considers to be against him, including political opponents. I cried, anticipating the pain of the families who will either be ripped apart or will have to decide to part or be deported together because of the punishing policies of the Trump administration. He could sign the bipartisan bill on immigration created in the summer before he was elected into law. Instead, he plans to be cruel toward immigrants as he was in his first administration. I cried for the loss of our democracy without any plans to rebuild to move the country forward.

My husband told me that everyone gets a day mixed up occasionally. Bless him for normalizing my confusion. He told me that I can’t do anything about the political situation. I stopped crying. I told him that I could write and continue to expose Trump and the impact of his actions on me and other women. Feedback tells me that my writing resonates with and comforts other women who feel alone or embarrassed that they still grieve Hillary’s loss and those who voted for Kamala recently, hoping for better things for our democracy.

I could feel the dark cloud lifting. My intuition told me to get to the computer and write this story. It said, “Go to the exercise room, get on the elliptical, and get moving.” I can count on writing and exercise to lift me. I don’t expect my grief to disappear magically. I do expect that, over time, it will diminish as I address it each time it shows up. I texted my friend to tell her I wasn't attending the party and gave her info on how I was feeling. I told her, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll have a good cry and be exercising and getting those endorphins flowing by 11 am!

PS. It helps when your life is active, and accomplishments related to your activities lift you when other things bring you down. Today, I had a call with my publisher and signed the contract to publish my book on living boldly at any age. That was a mood-lifter!

What activities can you count on to uplift you when you are down? What activities or projects yield satisfaction even in dark times? If you are engaged in inspirational activities, write them down and keep them somewhere for easy access when you need a reminder of what to do to restart. If you don’t have them yet, I suggest sitting in a quiet place, taking three slow, deep breaths, and asking yourself, “What am I already doing that uplifts me even in dark times?” Then, ask a second question: “What activities haven’t I identified that will help me reset when I’m down?

Record the responses and make them easily accessible. Add an uplifting activity daily. Notice the impact and implement daily activities that lift you up where you belong!