In Troubled Times: Numbing Out

I first posted this on December 12, 2016, right after the presidential election. I'm putting it up again as a reminder of how important it is to take care of our mental well-being in troubled times.

I have long understood the dangers and seductions of overwork. I’ve frequently coped with stress by balancing my checkbook or going over budget figures. Or reading and replying to every single email in my Inbox. It needn’t be intellectual work: scrubbing bathrooms or reorganizing closets works just fine. All these things involve attention to detail and (to one degree or another) restoring a sense of order to an otherwise capricious and chaotic world. I come by it honestly; when I was growing up, I saw my parents, my father in particular, plunge into work in response to the enormous problems our family faced. He and I are by no means unique. We live in a culture that values work above personal life and outward productivity over inner sensitivity.

“Work” doesn’t have to result in a measurable output. Anything that demands attention (preferably to the exclusion of all else) will do. Reading news stories or following social media accomplish the same objective and have the same result: they put our emotions “on hold.”

As I’ve struggled to detach from the waves of upsetting news, I have noticed an increased tendency in myself to overwork. It occurs to me that I reach for those activities in a very similar way other folks might reach for a glass of liquor or a pack of cigarettes (or things less legal). Or exercising to exhaustion, or any of the many things we do to excess that keep us from feeling. There’s a huge difference between the need to take a  breather from things that distress us and using substances or activities in a chronic, ongoing fashion to dampen our emotional reactions. The problem is that when we do these things, we shut off not only the uncomfortable feelings (upset, fear, etc.) but other feelings as well.

The challenge then becomes how to balance the human desire for “time-out” from the uncertainties and fears of the last few weeks and not numbing out. In my own experience, the process of balancing begins with awareness of what tempts me, whether I indulge in it or not. Is it something that can be good or bad, depending on whether I do it to excess? (Exercise, for example.) Or something best avoided entirely? (Some forms of risk-taking behavior, like unprotected sex with strangers.) If it can be both a strength and a weakness, how do I tell when enough is enough, or what a healthy way to do this is?

When is it time to run away (to Middle Earth, to a night club, to answering every single Tweet) and when is it time to come back? Am I able to extricate myself or do I need external help (an alarm clock, a family member)?

What about getting creative with escapes? Instead of binge-watching Stranger Things, how about taking the dog for a long hike and then watching one episode? A bubble bath instead of a drink? Calling a trusted friend before clicking on FaceBook?

Finally, a word on being gentle with ourselves. No matter how resourceful and conscious I am, I’m going to slip. That’s part of human nature. All these numbing escapes work, and that means not only will we reach for them, we’ll keep doing them. Will power alone isn’t enough to break us out of a session that’s gone on way too long (or that fourth drink or second pack of cigarettes). Some days we’ll do better than others. So it’s important to be kind to ourselves and others. We’re all coping with a difficult time, sometimes in healthier ways than others. Beating ourselves up for spending too much time playing video games won’t stop us the next time we reach for the console: it will only give us one more thing to escape from. One of the most helpful things I’ve done is to talk to others about what’s going on with me. If I notice my eyes and shoulders are screaming at me from too many hours staring at a computer screen, that’s a great opening for a conversation. I can ask for a friendly ear, whether I want advice or not. Commiseration and sharing of our different experiences – our failures as well as our successes – makes me more likely to try something else.

What escapes appeal to you particularly these days? Are they healthy (or can they be, if indulged with moderation)? How do you handle occasions of excess? What helps you to stay in touch with your feelings, or to come back to them after a break?

Book Review: We Always Knew Cooking Was Magical

A Thousand Recipes for Revenge, by Beth Cato (47 North)

What a rich and fascinating world Beth Cato has created in A Thousand Recipes for Revenge! In her analog of Western Europe, Chefs have an empathic connection with food and wine, especially those elements called “epicurea,” harvested from magical beings (like unicorn “tonic”). In Verdania, such talented individuals are strictly controlled by the royal court. Ada Garland is one such, in hiding after deserting the army many years ago, when the toll of injustice and bloodshed became unbearable. Solenn, a foreign princess forced into betrothal to the Verdanian crown prince, has no idea what to expect when her epicurean gift suddenly arises. Political intrigue, fast-paced action, great characters who develop through their tribulations, weird and often selfish gods, and amazing plot twists make for an absorbing and highly satisfying read.

I had a slow start in the initial few pages in which I struggled to connect with Ada. Once Solenn appeared on the scene, dignified and determined but overwhelmed by her new destiny, I was utterly carried away. I loved Solenn’s quiet competence, her love of her homeland that she might never see again, and especially her passion for horses. The scene in which she protects a horse that’s being abused made me love her forever. After that, Ada’s situation, on the run from mysterious assassins, trying to find a safe haven for her dementia-ridden grandmother, and still grieving the separation from the love of her life, took on fresh color and urgency. I decided the problem was me, not the story, as I could not think of a better approach.

Cato’s depth and storytelling skill shine through as the elements of world-building, character, and story mesh together with dramatic flair.

 

 

In Troubled Times: Finding an Inner Guide to Political Action

I first posted this November 28, 2016, right after the presidential election. I'm putting it up again as a reminder of how important it is to take care of our mental well-being in troubled times.

Like many others, I did not sleep well on election night or the following nights. Shock and dismay had hijacked my mind. I felt as if I had been catapulted into a very dark Twilight Zone episode. My thoughts went hither and yon, partly batted about by a political racquet, partly going from shiny/horror to next shiny/horror.

In my recovery from PTSD, I have learned to be protective of my sleep and my inner balance. I quickly detected warning signs and realized that I had to put my own mental and physical health first. Without that foundation, I wasn’t going to be able to make any sense or take effective action. So I set about using my “tool box” to reduce my anxiety. Besides sleep management and calming techniques, I reached out to my family and close friends. I tried as best I could to keep the focus on myself and my feelings, not politics. I took notice of which conversations made me feel better and which did not.

I felt better about myself when there was something I could do for the person close to me. Perhaps this was because I felt less powerless, but I believe it was because I felt more connected. Research suggests human beings are hard-wired to feel pleasure from helping others. Whether or not this is true, feeling valued and needed is a good thing.

So the first “movement” of my journey was to take care of myself and then to reach out to those around me.

Once I was feeling a bit more settled, I started to look around for other actions I might take. This required a great deal of filtering of news and social media. News sources inundated me with blow after terrible blow as events (and nominations or appointments) unfolded. I realized I could spend 100 hours a day on the various calls to action, and that not all of them were appropriate for me. Some would put me right back in the zone of risking my mental health.

How then are we to know how to proceed and what actions will not damage us?

We listen for that sense of rightness, no matter how frightening the prospect. I learned a great deal about this process from hanging out with Quakers. They talk about “discernment” and “leadings of the Spirit.” It’s one of the things that makes Quaker action different from other activism. One is led to take action by the promptings of the inner light, which means that arguments for or against make little difference. This made Quaker abolitionists (for example) tenacious in their cause.

What am I led to do? How will I know when that happens?

I’m still listening, and while I do that, I pay attention to small things that I feel able to do. They may not qualify as “Spirit-led,” but they seem possible. Then I notice how I feel. As an example, I wrote a letter of support to the nearest mosque; I felt lighter and more hopeful after I had mailed it. On the other hand, I felt low and discouraged after speaking with certain people I had otherwise reason to trust. I’m not likely to try that again.

I do not know how or even if this process of trial and reflection, slowly feeling my way, will lead to action on a state or national level. I’m definitely not going to fly across the country to attend a march in Washington D.C. or New York City. Because I’ve felt energized by writing letters, I am more likely to do that again. I’m considering volunteering in person at Planned Parenthood (where I volunteered when I was in grad school, before Roe v. Wade) or the ACLU, but do not yet see a clear path.

Meanwhile, I continue to practice reaching out, and find that the circle keeps getting bigger. By listening compassionately and seeking out safe places to share my own fears, I join a community of light. By sharing suggestions of actions, I become aware of those I might be willing to take, or inspire others to take actions I am not comfortable with. Who knows? Maybe knowing someone who is brave enough (or skilled enough) to do something will show me the way. Or perhaps the way will open in community once I see I do not have to act alone.

Short Book Reviews: Stealing a Human/Alien Hybrid Ghost

 Not of This World, by Simon R. Green (Severn House)

Gideon Sable--master thief, con artist, and self-proclaimed vigilante--faces a challenge he can't resist: to break into the British Area 51 and steal a ghost. Not just any ghost, but a hybrid between a human astronaut and an alien utterly bent on destruction. Although Gideon suspects the motives and veracity of his would-be client, he gathers his crew, lured with the promise of being able to walk off with whatever ultra-secret, ultra-valuable gadgets they can lay their hands on. His crew includes The Damned, armored by the haloes of two dead angels; Switch-It Sally, who can switch out just about anything; a werewolf; and Annie Anybody, capable of fully embodying an array of personas (in this case, Melody Mead, Girl Adventurer). Of course, nothing goes as planned, and this volume is, like its predecessors, jam-packed with plot twists, treachery, and revelations.

Gideon and his crew have come a long way since he first convinced them to join up with him, progressing through suspicion and animosity to grudging respect and, now, the bonds of family. In the last episode, The Damned and Switch-It Sally not only fell in love but also informally adopted the young werewolf. Gideon himself has gone from being a nameless man who inherited a legend to the emotional glue and super-planner brains holding it all together. In this sense, the book is as much about loyalty and family as it is about the present adventure. This gives a supernatural spy/con-man romp satisfying depth. I hope there will be many more books in the series.

In Troubled Times: Antidote to Despair

Following the 2016 election, I wrote a series called In Troubled Times. It seems appropriate to post these again now. This came out on December 9, 2016

Recently a friend voiced her despair about the effect of the elections and the president-elect’s nominations on the future of the planet. She said “fear” was too mild a term. Her conversation kept referencing the Permian extinction event and the destruction of the Earth. I admit I didn’t respond well. I tend to react to emotion-laden exaggerations of complex issues, and that reaction overrode the compassionate thing to do, which was to listen to her feelings. My mind flipped from a conversation about emotions to one about facts. Needless to say, she was not interested in whether current projects are for a target global warming of 3.6 degrees or 4 degrees Celsius.

In observing my own mind, I notice what I do when faced with the notion of looming ecological disaster. I run away to information. In this case, at least, I find it calming. The facts don’t change, but researching the issue and reading the considered opinions of people with legitimate scientific credentials who have studied the matter in depth changes my emotional reaction. I suspect a portion of this runs along the lines of, “Whew, I don’t have to figure this out all on my own!” I’m only one of many who are grappling with the problem.

Clearly, this was not my friend’s process. A little bit of information (the Permian extinction event plunged her into even greater hopelessness. From this I take away something so simple, its profound truth often escapes me: we don’t all cope with stressful news in the same way.

I’ve written about paying attention to what makes me feel calmer or more distraught, and then making mindful choices. Although information is helpful to me, it can also have an addictive quality. We writers joke about doing so much research on a novel project, the book never gets written. Similarly, I can mire myself in one source after another until I go numb. That numb state is a sure sign I’ve either made a poor choice or gone too far.

Blogging about my process, however, seems not to have a down side. I suspect this is because such writing puts me in better touch with my feelings and increases my sensitivity to what is good for me and what is harmful. It has the added benefit of being of service to others who are wrestling with the same issues, searching for a way through the morass of upset feelings to a way forward in what the Buddhists call “right action.”

Reaching out to others, offering my help, sharing my experience and insight and listening to their own, all these things lift me from despair.

What things help you?

Short Book Reviews: Puzzles Can't Carry the Plot

 The Puzzle Master, by Danielle Trussoni (Random House)

After a traumatic brain injury leaves him with a genius for constructing and solving puzzles, Mike Brink embarks upon a real-life riddle: novelist Jess Price, in prison for committing a notorious murder, pleads to see him in person although they have never met. She slips a baffling cipher to him, the “God Puzzle.” In trying to figure out what happened the night of the murder, what present danger has Jess terrified, and what the cipher means, Mike gets drawn into a twisted, generations-long story of forbidden arcane knowledge with the power to transform technology and humanity itself.

I loved the beginning of the book, especially the passages in which Mike sees puzzles as luminous patterns. Other than the occasional crossword, I’m not much for puzzles, so this “look-inside” was fascinating. As the story went on, with diaries telling stories-within-stories, I lost emotional connection with Mike. I distrusted his attraction to Jess as one more pasted-on artificial element. (It turned out there was a reason for the allure, but I didn’t see the signals that supernatural forces were at work.) Long passages that had nothing to do with Mike’s present quest intensified the emotional detachment. Three-quarters of the book, a series of characters arrived and proceeded, very much deus ex machina, to solve Mike’s problems for him while dumping huge, indigestible chunks of exposition. This part read as if two completely different books had been jammed together. Despite scattered scenes with action, the remainder of the book proceeded with very little sense that everything had been building to this point. In the end, Mike did relatively little to achieve his own goal or solve his own problems. The book was billed as a “thriller,” but the last part did a good job putting me to sleep. Which is too bad, really, because the material about puzzles was fascinating.

[personal] In the Aftermath...

 Thank you, everyone who has asked how I'm doing.

In the days before the election, I tormented myself with worst-case nightmare scenarios. Memories of the shock in 2020, being unable to sleep that night. Even deeper memories of growing up under the cloud of McCarthyism. Now life has created a buffer for me, in small part from anticipating the worst but also just not having the emotional bandwidth. My newly replaced knee is doing really well, but I'm in discomfort most of the time and PT exercises, stretches, icing, and the like eat up a lot of my focus.

To make matters worse, our oldest cat, Shakir, is in serious decline, most likely cancer although we aren't going to put him through expensive, invasive testing. He's 17 and frail. We're doing palliative care, which has perked him up quite a bit, but it's likely temporary. Too soon after losing Gayatri.

And to make matters even more complicated, there's another parole hearing [for the man who raped and murdered my mother] next week. Remote, so I don't have to haul myself to Vacaville. My speech is just about ready. As usual, I plan to decompress by watching the entire Peter Jackson director's cut The Lord of the Rings over the following two days. It strikes me as an appropriate thing to do after the election, as well.

We aren't facing this alone. We have one another, our work, and our dreams. Me, I'll have Gandalf, Aragorn, Arwen, Merry & Pippin, Eowyn, and Sam at my side for a bit.

Fortitude,

Deborah

In Troubled Times: Facing the Problem Squarely

Back in 2016, I posted a series of blogs entitled In Troubled Times. 
Today it seems fitting to remind myself that I survived then and will survive now. These thoughts are from 

Monday, December 5, 2016.

A few days ago, John Scalzi wrote in his blog, Whatever, “…the Trump administration and its enablers are going to make a mad gallop out of the gate to do a whole bunch of awful things, to overwhelm you with sheer volume right at the outset.”

Pretty shocking statement, huh? That was my first reaction. My second was that Scalzi is very likely correct. All the signs are there…all the signs that in my panic-stricken moments, I want to ignore so hard they go away.

My next reaction was to surrender my mind to a gazillion chattering monkeys, each with her own idea of What Must Be Done Right Now. I can work myself into a downright tizzy in no time this way. Not only that, I can paralyze myself with too many alternatives and no way to prioritize them, jumbling actions I might take with those that are impossible or unsafe (crazy-making) for me.

Any of this sound familiar?

It’s all based on a false choice. I don’t have to either prepare now for the logically impending “awful things” or play ostrich on the river in Egypt. But in order to see other, saner alternatives, I must first evict the Monkeys of Panic so I can regard the situation calmly.

We’re in for some hard times, and knowing that is a relief.

At first, it seems counter-intuitive to say that acknowledging we are in for some dark times comes as a relief. The relief is because instead of nebulous fears running rampant, bursting into exaggeration and melodrama at every turn, vulnerable to any sort of fact-free hype, I’ve stepped away from the emotional storm. I’m facing the problem squarely, as my tai chi teacher used to say. We’re in for some tough times, and likely there will be a whole slew of bad news in the early months of 2017.

When I’m no longer trying to deny or distort the way things are (for example, Trump’s cabinet choices and what is known about them, or what he has said he will or won’t do) I not only become calmer, but better able to see things I might do, alone or in solidarity with like-minded folks.

This is based on a simple truth that in order to act effectively, I need to be sane. I can’t be sane if I’m bouncing off the walls at every headline on social media. I could, of course, disengage entirely from social media and refuse to read or listen to any sort of news. But I don’t want to do that. I want to stay engaged, but in a mindful way. I want to know what I’m up against. Once I stop fighting the reality of what that is, I free myself to use my energy and time in productive ways. I don’t know exactly what form these tough times will take, but I don’t need to prepare for every twist and turn. I can trust my ability to respond appropriately and creatively.

NaNoWriMo Thoughts

National Novel Writing Month is upon us. It's an international month-long event in which

folks pound out the first draft of a novel, posting the progress, getting lots of cheers every step of the way, and exchanging writing advice. Lots of friends will be doing it, many of them regular participants.

Alas, or perhaps not alas, not me.

I always have specific reasons. This year, I'm very close to finishing a revision of an on-spec novel that I've been working on for some years now, in the time gaps between contracted projects. I'm on the brink of the climactic scene, which spans 4 or 5 chapters and brings together everything that has gone before with a bang and a few nifty twists. If I nail it, the book works. Needless to say, this book not only haunts my every waking hour but has inveigled itself into my dreams. Not the story, mind you -- the writing and revising of it.

I began this book back in 2013 on a lark, one of those what-if ideas that just takes off on its own. It had been a long time since I'd embarked upon an unoutlined, unplanned, seat-of-the-pants story, especially one of novel length. I had not realized how much my creative spirit needed what I call taking a flying leap off the cliff of reality. Working on my netbook, I continued the draft while taking care of my best friend as she died of cancer. The story, with all its open possibilities -- and it had quite a few surprises for me -- gave me an emotional refuge so that I could return, "batteries recharged," to be present with my friend and her family.

Am I going to set this aside and lose all the momentum I've regained during this revision?

Book Review: Not Fairyland

 And Put Away Childish Things, by Adrian Tchaikovsky (Solaris)

Adrian Tchaikovsky’s And Put Away Childish Things is a fresh new take on the subgenre in which the beloved children’s fantasy novels are real and open to visitors. In this case, middling successful actor Harry Brodie has grown up in the shadow of his grandmother’s wildly successful and much-loved “Underhill” book series. There’s something “off” about the world and its characters—from the saccharine child heroes to the spooky, dangerously contrarian clown to the faun who never learns from his mistakes. Harry shrugs it off as being “children’s literature.” Now, on the cusp of the Covid pandemic, Harry’s life as a failing kids’ TV presenter takes an unexpected turn and he ends up captive to a group of seriously disturbed folks calling themselves the “Underlings.” They’re convinced that Underhill is real, that Harry is the rightful heir, and that he is capable of taking them all to this magical kingdom.

They’re not wrong, though. But when Harry arrives in Underhill, he finds a world in disarray—decaying, abandoned, and failing. At its heart, in the castle that was once its crowning glory, a dangerous secret.

I raced through the book. I loved the layers of theme and emotional resonance. It is as much about Harry’s longing for meaning in his life as it is about an adventure in a childhood magical realm. Tchaikovsky gives voice to characters whose only purpose has been to entertain one specific reader. Created with immutable flaws, they strive for agency as their world deteriorates around them. I couldn’t help thinking that good fantasy, whether for children or adults, succeeds through emotional resonance at a deeper level. Placeholder characters serve the plot but have no inner psychological life; they cannot aspire to anything greater meaning than their superficial roles. Harry’s “hero’s journey” demands that he shift from an “I-It” relationship to Underhill to one of “I-Thou,” extending both compassion and responsibility to the magical realm and its folk. My favorite of these was the former-villain spider, Smackersnack, who has found her way into the real world as a computer programmer and abdicates the role of eternal monster. I rather like her.

Recommended.