Day 43: Chronic Stress and Freezing Rain

I'm writing late today, in the afternoon at my desk with Sarah playing legos next to me and Rebecca playing downstairs with a friend.

This morning I had a very important realization (or re-realization), aided by my forever friend Lauren, who reminded me our bodies were never built to stay in a chronic state of fight or flight response.

And further, we have now lived in this chronic state of stress and fatigue for two full years. The first Coronavirus case was reported in the US on January 20th, 2020, but anxiety surrounding coronavirus started earlier.

Our particular family endured intense stress and heartbreak shortly before that, too, as we mourned the loss of our beloved friend, Mike, the fall before the ‘Rona came on the scene.

So, given all that, we can only do some much on a daily basis. We live in a world where COVID 19 is prevalent and the insecurity and instability it creates is extreme. By itself, this depletes our energy levels and limits our capacity for doing or feeling pretty much anything. 

Writing my post last week about the extreme stress and decision fatigue I and other teachers currently experience felt cathartic for me. It also connected me to the idea that I have been under a beyond-normal amount of stress and should, perhaps, give myself a tiny bit of a break.

Maybe. 

I already undertake so much as a mom, teacher and person — and, overall, I succeed in those roles and responsibilities. I could undertake half as much as I do and still succeed in the ways that matter. I put unnecessary, and frankly unproductive, pressure on myself to do more and be more and be perfect. (Raise your hand if this also applies to you.) 

However, if that extra stress divides my attention and causes me anxiety, it actually diminishes my performance in all areas of my life.

Oy. Just writing about this makes me want to take a nap.

But, all nonsense and self-imposed attempts at perfection aside, I need to significantly refocus on being gentle with myself and all those around me. From my husband, children and friends on out to my students, their families and my colleagues: we are all just doing the best we can right now. 

Simply acknowledging the relentless stress, overwhelming trauma, heightened anxiety and bone-deep exhaustion of the last two years may help us offer grace to ourselves and others, too. Cut ourselves (and others, too) some slack. Reach out with empathy, understanding and kindness, instead of just demands and deadlines. 

It’s freezing rain here, with forecasted highs this week in the teens and lows below zero. It’s going to be bleak, dreary — and highly infectious — for the foreseeable future.