Since I live in Florida, I’ve long dealt with hurricanes. Fortunately, the worst I and my close family members tend to experience are some temporary power outages and lots of debris from fallen branches. When this happens, time seems to slow to a crawl or even stop altogether. If the storm was bad enough, then normal routines are so disrupted that nothing of the usual sort is expected to continue, even if it could do so (such as going to work or school, completing projects that would have been due shortly after the storm, etc.).
There’s always something interesting and, in some ways, fun about those times. Whether it’s because normal routines are disrupted, memories from storms that resulted in school being canceled for several days come flooding back, or it seems like indoor camping (using flashlights and sometimes generators when the power goes out), there’s a big element of intrigue for me whenever that happens. I almost look forward to it at times, along with the sense of calm that comes once the storm passes and the wind, rain, thunder, lightning, and everything else that came with the storm stops.
This applies to emotional storms as well. There wasn’t much to do after my dog Sawyer’s death. I had lots of time to rest, mourn, cry, grieve, yell, and develop routines that kept me going when I often thought I wouldn’t. All this without having to show up to a job, go to school, or fulfill any other big obligations I’d made while Sawyer was still alive. Essentially, I could put almost everything on pause for a long period of time while I slowly got back on my feet. I’m convinced that all that time to grieve and feel through everything that came up is why I’m doing as well as I am, and why I even made it through that painful time in the first place. I shudder to think what would have happened if I had had to go right back to a stressful job, frustrating class, or other difficult situation while still drowning in sorrow.
There was also some relief in that after Sawyer died, I no longer had to wonder what it would be like, how his death would happen, or if it would happen while I was away from him. Although that relief may have been small, I’ll take any kind of relief I can get. It was incredibly difficult to get much of any relief for the longest time after Sawyer’s death, so even a small amount was welcome.
I find it helpful to look back on various painful situations I somehow got through whenever I’m in the middle of an emotional storm. Doing so can remind me of tools that helped me through past storms and allows me to use them to weather any current storms. It also shows me that even the longest storms eventually end, and that I’ve made it through many that I thought would end me. Since I tend to catastrophize almost everything, even small problems can seem disastrous while I’m going through them. While getting through some incredibly long, painful storms in the past doesn’t necessarily bring me comfort in the midst of my current storms, it has given me a way to navigate them more successfully. Sometimes that’s all I need.