*Serious CW for sexual violence and overall distress over the state of the world*
Two years ago, I was driving to my friend’s house. I turned on the radio, hoping to learn something, and found a woman going into detail about how she’d been assaulted by Donald Trump on a plane. I had no warning. I thought I’d catch the weather, maybe a story about somewhere far away. Instead, I found myself horribly triggered, shaking, and sobbing in my car. I had to pull over.
At least one of my diseases is exacerbated by stress hormones. Even before we knew what was wrong, it was clear that all of my symptoms increase under stress. My doctors periodically implore me to avoid stressors and find ways to reduce anxiety...
How can I live in this world saturated with these stories and not feel stressed? I listen to the radio, catch the news on someone’s TV, or glance at a paper, and feel hopeless. I go on facebook to get back to a friend trying to make plans via messenger and I’m bombarded with triggering information; quotes from US congressmen delegitimizing rape and science and medicine, arguing that women’s bodies simply repel pregnancy when the sex isn’t consensual, so there’s no way it was really rape. Images of the president’s face with quotes reminding me that he has admitted in court to raping his ex-wife, has sexually assaulted women, and bragged about it. Headlines of environmental reforms being scaled back so that corporations can rake in even more money at the cost of the planet I love so much.
I turn on the news, and hear stories of Senators still planning to vote for a supreme court nominee who assaulted a girl in high school. Or how many new refugees we’re going to have because of the climate change disaster that our country has caused. Or how the current refugees are being held indefinitely in internment camps.
I go to work and kids are facing violence, poverty, neglect, addiction, incarceration, and are so utterly addicted to their phones they can’t function in solitude.
I have a deep connection with our planet, and a deeper connection with nature than most humans. I’ve experienced lack of control over my body caused by illness as well as by males who did not respect my sovereignty. I am a deep empath and a highly sensitive person. I feel things viscerally in my body. And I have diseases that are triggered by emotion.
I can get hot flashes and migraines from laughing too hard, holding in sadness, or feeling anger. So the stress level induced by two seconds of public radio or facebook newsfeed can easily cause brain fog at best, or a full-blown mast cell flare at its worst.
So what’s the solution? Do I hide in my happy corner of the world with my supportive spouse, loving family, and kind friends? Bask in the glory of Vermont’s forests and mountains and pretend I don’t know the state of the coral reefs? Go to cultural competency trainings with like-minded people trying to recognize their own privilege without thinking about the rising alt-right Nazis and the structural racism that persists?
It’s hard not to go numb or to withdraw. I need to continue engaging. But I am barely getting by just functioning, nevermind fighting back. I wish, in moments like these, that I were well.
It happened again yesterday. I turned on NPR on my way to work and caught the senate interrogating Dr. Ford, asking her to relive her trauma. Suddenly I was there with her, in the room she describes, with a high school boy pinning me down, someone else in the room allowing it to go on. I know that fear. I know that shame. So yet again, I broke down and sobbed hysterically all the way to work. Thankfully, I was received by one of my bosses, a kind and compassionate woman who understands anxiety and illness. She listened without looking at the clock, made eye contact, and told me to take the time I needed for me. She was there for me in ways she didn’t need to say.
Today was my day off from work. I’d planned to go in anyway, to hike with my students on a beautiful day. But waking up with a headache, palpitations, and churning intestines, I knew this wouldn’t work. I worked from home when I could, tried to eat and exercise when possible and stopped when the nausea became too much. I spent too much of the day inside, horizontal or curled up in fetal position, but I regret none of it. I cleaned my kitchen and bathroom, removing the literal dirt and trash to restore some semblance of control. I stayed off of facebook and avoided all news sources. As I lay here on the couch, smoothie in hand, the anxiety is dissipating. Thank you to my coworkers who encouraged me to stay home, my sisters and other female friends for sharing their self-care practices, and the men who’ve shared in my pain and outrage. We make this world better, in whatever small ways we can.