When was the last time someone dropped 'the bomb' on you? You know
what I mean: the last time you heard someone say, "I love you but I'm
not in love with you;" or "I'm sorry but we're going to have to let you
go;" or the ever-popular "The doctor wants to see you in his office
right away"? Ouch! For many reasons, midlife winds up being 'ground
zero' for many of life's most upsetting moments. Back in the '50's, we
were universally taught to "duck and cover" as a strategy that was
supposed to help us survive a nuclear bomb explosion. I'm not sure that
we have any generally-accepted strategies for recovering from these
kinds of midlife blasts, though. Emotionally, we're stuck with a kind
of 'every person for him- or herself!' sort of approach.
By their
very nature, our emotions are reactive. They're indicative that
something (for better or worse) is going on with us. We're liking or
disliking, fearing or fighting something in our environment.
When we're hit with one of these life-bombs, our emotions first
generally register shock and disbelief. We feel the emotional 'kick in
the gut' that initially (at least) sends us reeling. Then, quickly or
slowly, we progress through the famous Five Stages of Grief that
Elizabeth Kübler-Ross wrote about: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, finally, acceptance.
It's critical that people develop effective personal strategies for
dealing with these midlife 'bombs' because, as likely as not,
regardless of what our past experience has been, there are probably
more just like them yet to come.
Today, I don't want to talk specifically about the emotional 'shock
and awe' that comes from experiencing one of these events. There's
already a lot a material out there on handling crises that arrive
during midlife: why we're vulnerable to them and how to cope with them
when they come. Many people don't realize that, even after surviving
one of these 'bombs' and getting yourself all the way to acceptance,
you still have to face the fallout. It seems to me, from
my own experience, that there are three kinds of fallout from an
emotional blast: there's the permanent fallout (where your whole
approach to life is permanently altered, as in the case of a
devastating illness or injury), there's the temporary fallout (where it
may take months or years to recover, as in the case of a death or
relationship breakup), and finally there's the episodic
fallout (where bouts of emotional distress will appear at seemingly
random moments). I think people badly underestimate the effects of this
last type of fallout — and they pay a heavy price for it.
Some
months ago, I experienced a major disappointment that caused me to
change my whole approach to the way I earn my living. It's bad enough
when your boss lays you off; it's almost worse when you're your own
boss! Sometimes, the hard facts of economic life come along and hit you
right between the eyes with a compelling argument that's hard to ignore
or avoid. Changes then have to be made, regardless of how it may feel
at the time (in my case, that would be a lot of pain). Once the die is
cast and the changes that must be made have been made, time mercifully
allows those of us in that situation to work through grieving process.
I would hope that those who care about us will be there for us,
supporting us as we work through the not-altogether rational deluge of
feelings that come marching along as we pass from one landmark to the
next: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, at last, acceptance.
Episodic
fallout throws an emotional monkey wrench into the whole process
because, just when we think that we have the whole thing under control
(if not licked), we experience a throw-back to one or more markers
along the road that we imagine we've long-ago left behind. Suddenly,
I'm angry for no reason (or disproportionately angry over something
insignificant). Or, I find myself in the middle of the afternoon
wanting to cry or deciding to go back to bed rather than join others in
some excursion or other. "Wait a minute!" you might say, "what's going
on? There's nothing wrong, and I'm feeling rotten anyway! Am I going
crazy?"
No, you're not going crazy. You're just imagining
things. You're not imagining your feelings. You really do feel awful.
You're imagining that that you're really 'over it', just because you're
not aware of the emotional fallout from what has been, for all intents
and purposes, a traumatic event. Perhaps you've gained enough
acceptance to have made the decision to get on with your life. That's
great! It just doesn't mean that all of your emotions have caught up
with your decision. Every trauma involves flash-backs: if not
flash-backs where you re-live the traumatic event, then flash-backs of
the emotions that accompanied them. We forget that memory is not
confined to our little gray cells. There's body memory as well. All we
need to do is to give our body half a chance, and it'll allow those
buried emotions to come cascading out. And, by definition, it'll happen
when we're least expecting it.
Now what about that fallout
shelter? There's only one simple (but not easy) approach that we can
take that will shelter us from these emotional flash-backs from midlife
trauma: beware of free-floating emotions! By that I mean
that we can actually train ourselves to spot emotions that come out of
nowhere and that seem . . . well . . . just wrong. Let
the thought, "Why am I feeling this way?" raise a red flag inside your
head. Of course, your first task would be to look around you to
ascertain whether something is, indeed, wrong right here and now. Yet,
once you've done that, and you still can't justify the way you feel,
look around and see if anything is reminding you of past trauma. What
are your thoughts telling you? How similar are these thoughts to the
thoughts you were having when you were experiencing trauma? What
unresolved questions from back then might these feeling be highlighting?
Here's
side note to everyone about free-floating emotions (by that I mean
emotions that seem dissociated from your current situation and
environment): immediate and past situations are not the only sources
for these kinds of emotions. It is possible for sensitive people to
'pick up on' the emotions of people around them — particularly people
with whom they share a close intimate bond. Furthermore, it is possible
to gain or grow that sensitivity. We all have that capacity, and we can
choose to grow it. If you are psychically sensitive, or believe that
you're becoming more so, then you have a further distraction that you
need to pay attention to. You may have to ask yourself if these
free-floating emotions might be coming from someone outside yourself.
Look around; see what you can find. If possible, ask the people closest
to you how they're doing.
Turning back to you and to your fallout
emotions: I firmly believe that you can learn to manage these feelings,
once you've recognized them for what they are. Emotions only have the
power to disrupt your life so long as they're not serving their purpose
(which is to alert you of what's going on). As long as you're aware
that you may not be finished with your denial, anger, bargaining and
depression, even when you seem to be feeling 'fine', when the fallout
comes (as it will), you'll be better able to identify its source and
know how to handle it. After all, you've already handled it once; this
'fallout' is just an encore performance letting you know that there's
more work to be done before you're finished with it. My parents died
fifteen years ago, and I still have pangs of grief once in a while.
Your best shelter, then, is this: a) know how to identify free-floating
emotions and b) when they come, take good care of yourself, just
exactly the way you did when the feelings came the first time. Not all
fallout shelters are holes in the ground, you know: don't forget to
turn to your Higher Power at those times. Remember the words of that
old hymn: "O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home."