Listen to the audio version of this post here.
You can hardly count the ways life has changed—for all of us—in the past six months.
You can certainly feel them. And feel them, and feel them, and well, you know. Your clients and colleagues feel the changes too. So do your friends and your family.
How are you—and they—holding up?
Me? I seem to have about used up my surge capacity. Maybe you can relate.
Manufacturers and medical centers have long used that language, referring to how much work they can handle in a pinch. Turns out there’s a psychological surge capacity too.
Science writer Tara Haelle says it’s the collection of mental and physical adaptive systems we draw on for short-term survival in acutely stressful situations, such as natural disasters.
When everything goes kablooey in a hurricane or a tornado or a wildfire people often survive, and even thrive, thanks to that spike in physical and emotional energy. Many do things they never imagined they could do.
Then there’s a pandemic.
When I read Haelle’s Elemental essay, the way I’ve been feeling lately began to make sense. Her title is “Your ‘Surge Capacity’ is Depleted – It’s Why You Feel Awful.”
Listen, I think of myself as being pretty resourceful. I’ve weathered all kinds of personal and professional storms. And I’m resilient; I always bounce back.
That’s what healthy humans do, right? A crisis hits, that surge capacity kicks in, and we find ways to get through it. Maybe we come out even better on the other side.
Remember back in the spring?
Some of us were bravely putting on masks and gloves and going to our essential jobs in spite of COVID-19.
Some were scrambling to set up home offices and new routines so we could be productive working from home.
We were suddenly in charge of our children’s online learning, not to mention keeping them safe.
And of course, many were nursing a sick family member back to health or grieving for one who didn’t survive.
All of it required energy. A lot of energy. To keep going, to do what we needed to do, we drew on our surge capacity.
By definition, though, surge capacity doesn’t last forever. And it feels like forever, doesn’t it?
Ann Masten is a psychologist and professor at the University of Minnesota. She told Tara Haelle the pandemic is “an unprecedented disaster for most of us that is profound in its impact on our daily lives” and it’s expecting a lot to think that we’d be managing it all really well.
She thinks we’ve underestimated the adversity. Masten says these feelings we’re experiencing now may be “a normal reaction to a severe and ongoing, unfolding, cascading disaster.”
And she points out that it’s normal in “situations of great uncertainty and chronic stress to get exhausted and to feel ups and downs, to feel like you’re depleted or experience periods of burnout.”
So many people feel they’re at the breaking point.
All those anti-mask meltdowns in big box stores, the fights about schools opening—or not, even the Tweets that the whole pandemic is a hoax and a conspiracy … none of it should surprise us.
And that goes double for our own listlessness and procrastination and those mad bursts of activity followed by a sense of profound loss.
We have lost a lot. Jobs and whole careers have evaporated in an instant. Family members and friends have died. Social activities and religious services have been curtailed. Life as we know it … well, we don’t know it anymore.
Surge capacity was fine, but when this kind of thing drags on and on and on, we need a different style of coping. Here are a few things to try.
Accept what is.
Much as we’d like it to be otherwise, what is, is. Some people call it radical acceptance. Not fighting the situation or even trying to change it or wish it away. Just being with what is. And breathing—that always helps.
It also helps to remind ourselves that many things are true.
Yes, all the crappy stuff that goes with the pandemic, not to mention the protests and counter-protests that never seem to stop.
And … that moment sitting on the deck with a friend. The amazing meal you cooked even though you never thought of yourself as gifted in the kitchen. The wonderful book you just finished because now you have time to read.
Those little things can be a counterweight to the negativity if we remember to count them.
Accept ourselves.
Maybe we expected to have all our closets cleaned by now. To have our kids back in school and ahead of their grade level because of all that stellar at-home learning they’d done. And to be in line for a promotion for everything we’ve accomplished in those long hours at our laptop in the den.
People can put a lot of pressure on themselves. It’s past time to take the pressure off. Acknowledge that this is hard for everybody, including us. Support we’ve counted on is not available. Losses are piling up.
And it’s normal to feel a stew of emotions. The precise ingredients of yours may differ from mine, but we can guess that most people are experiencing some combination of stress and sadness and loss and fear and anger and flat-out exhaustion.
Give yourself some grace.
Stay connected.
It takes more effort when we don’t just automatically see people at work or religious services or neighborhood events.
It’s worth making the effort. We need those human contacts more than ever. For me, virtual meetings with my mastermind and networking groups have been a Godsend. Frequent phone conversations with my brother and sister. And, lately, the occasional outdoor dinner with friends.
Social contact, emotional support, lending a hand to someone who needs it. Those things sustain us. And will continue to, if we make the effort.
I value my connection with you, especially when it’s mutual.
Post a comment below—how are you doing, six months into this unprecedented experience? And what suggestions do you have for the rest of us?
Agree with you and the timing of this article is impeccable, truly. We have no idea of the true impact of this pandemic on us yet. Care for yourself/ourselves and those we hold dear. One day at a time, one foot in front of the other, breathe and move, when able. Pray and reach inward and outward, as capable of in each moment. Thanks Catherine. Stay well.
Thanks, Marla. You’re so right about not knowing the full impact of this experience — it’ll be years, I think, before we sort out all the immediate and lingering effects of the disease itself, the response to it, and the economic fallout from it. I’m trying to hold a wish for the people who seem to be acting crazy — including the angry anti-maskers screaming about their rights and their polar opposites who are hiding out at home scolding the rest of us.
Also, to your point, breathing is a fine thing.
Thank you Catherine! You know what to say, and when to say it. I work in the sustainability field and need to focus on solutions for the climate crisis in addition to dealing with and better understanding/accepting the pandemic and social unrest, I’m exhausted. My empathy barometer is working overtime.
You’re certainly not alone in your exhaustion, Amy. That’s part of the problem — we’re all getting depleted. That might mean empathy takes more effort than usual. Cut yourself some slack if your understanding and acceptance falter every once in a while
I appreciate YOU and this connection which is a touchstone for me. THANK YOU Catherine for your grace, for it is your grace that reminds me that it is ok to be human.
You’re a sweetheart, Love Ann. YES! It is definitely OK to be human.
I really enjoyed this Catherine, thank you. Well done! Between the relentless political rancor, national social unrest, and of course the endless fervor surrounding the pandemic (regardless of one’s personal position on it)… our individual and collective “surge capacity” has definitely been depleted (perhaps some time ago for some). I, and I suspect many, are suffering from what I’ll call “grief fatigue” – we’re just worn out from being incessantly worried and worn out. These days I pause even before turning on the news or scrolling social media out of dread and fear of learning about the latest series of unfortunate events unfolding. As such, I fear many have seemingly become desensitized to it all because they’re sick of being bombarded with bad news while their lives are still upside down more or less… the ramifications of which we won’t fully realize for some time I’m afraid. Great concluding tips to help weather this unprecedented time. Be well. – Tom
Thanks, Tom – for reading and for sharing your thoughts. Your notion of “grief fatigue” rings true—we’re just worn out with all of it, aren’t we? I find myself dreading colder weather, having to give up what little socializing we’re doing (dinner on the deck!), being stuck in the house for, well, we don’t know for how long. And I read way too much news. You’re smart to take that pause before delving into the day’s events.
Take care of yourself and the ones you love.