What's Here Now? Hard Times
illustration by the amazing worry__lines
None of us will get through this life without experiencing hard times of some kind. Maybe you’re in the midst of a hard day right now — or a hard month, or year, or even a longer stretch.
Maybe the hard thing you’re dealing with is illness — yours or someone else’s. Maybe it’s divorce or a car accident or your house burned down. Maybe you and your best friend had a fight last week or you hate your boss. Or maybe you’re out of work and there’s nothing you’d love more right now than to have a boss to hate. Maybe you’re in a funk and you have no idea why. Maybe the difficulties are of your own making or you find yourself being weighed down by systemic forces out of your control. Sometimes we can make a hard time even harder — we overcomplicate, overthink, over-what-if. Or we avoid our feelings or enter a state of denial.
My mom was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia about six years ago. Her cheery personality gradually disappeared and her vitality dimmed, and then dimmed some more. A few years ago, she went to live in a facility and has been on a steady decline and will likely die from her condition, probably in the not too far off future. She lives in the midwest and I’m in California. I go home for visits twice a year. Visiting feels harder and harder, because seeing her gets sadder and sadder. She no longer speaks or reads or knits or does any of the things she used to love. She can’t feed or dress herself, she needs assistance with every single thing.
It’s all, very much, a hard thing.
I worry all the time about whether there’s something she wants to communicate, but can’t. I worry that she’s in pain or she’s hungry or tired and nobody can tell. I worry that she misses the dog, her husband, her friends and family. I often feel guilt about being far away. I also think a lot about how she and I didn’t get along for much of my life and then I feel bad about that too. (That’s me making a hard thing even harder.)
One thing that helps me in hard times or with uncomfortable feelings is to remember that usually, it’s a temporary state. Things may look different tomorrow, or next week, or next year. Even if the hard thing is going to keep being hard, my feelings about it will probably fluctuate. I have learned to have patience and not catastrophize too much.
Next week, I’m going to be in my hometown to visit my mom. I know it’s going to be difficult at times. Here’s how I prepare:
I create a space for myself.
I rent a car at the airport when I visit. I’m sure someone would be willing to fetch me, but the idea of having a space of my own to retreat to if I need to be alone is totally worth the added expense. I can go blast 80s rock ballads and cry my face off for a few minutes if I need to, or drive aimlessly around town until I suddenly find myself at the Arby’s drive thru. HOW DID I END UP AT ARBY’S??? THEY DIDN’T TELL ME AT THE RENTAL COUNTER THIS WAS A SELF-DRIVING CAR! (Hash tag Emotional Support Roast Beef Sandwich.)
I gather support.
I give a couple of pals a heads up that I might be doing some extra texting in the days to come. Knowing they know I might need some friend vibes or snarky memes makes me feel loved and supported and less alone.
I write it down.
I’m a documenter and a chronicler. Writing down how I feel or capturing what happened helps me process it all. Sharing it makes me feel like I’m not the only one holding it, which is like a big virtual hug.
I plan some breaks.
Sometimes during my visits, I try to hook up with old friends from high school or college. Or take a long drive, or go to a concert, or go canoeing. I make lots of trips to the massive grocery store in town — walking the aisles is meditative to me.
I find the humor.
My mom’s dementia journey has had its funny moments. It 100% sucks that she has dementia, and at the same time, it was 100% funny to me when she went through a walking-the-halls-nude phase a couple of years ago. Or when she kept pushing her call button not for assistance, but for more pie. Or when the visiting pastor leads the residents in a hymn, I know my mom probably finds his terrible singing as hysterical as I do even though she can’t show it, so I suppress a laugh for both of us. I try to find lightness where I can.
I expect (and allow) some spillover.
I’ve gone through this enough times to know that after I leave, I’m likely to feel pretty soft and squishy in the old feels. On my way home after my last visit, I got off the airplane and saw a white-haired lady being wheeled through the terminal in a wheelchair and I burst into tears at the sight of her. And then again a few minutes later when I saw an elderly man on one of those airport trolleys, holding his cane on his lap as they whizzed through the walkway. I expect my feelings to be pretty close to the surface and I allow them to spill over. I have become fine being an airport crier.
I pet a dog.
When my husband picks me up from the airport, he usually brings our dog and I get in the backseat for some dog snuggles on the way home instead of sitting up front. It helps.
We may not be able to control the hard moments in our life, but we can choose how we respond or ask for what we need while we weather them. We can let ourselves feel what we feel. We can prepare and navigate through the hard times if we pay attention to ourselves and listen for what we need.
Think of something that feels hard in your life right now, ask yourself some of these questions and see what bubbles up:
How do I want to show up for the this hard moment or situation?
What do I need or want right now?
What might help this moment feel easier? more tolerable?
What kind of support do I need and who might I ask for it?
What are my feelings about this? Who might I share them with?
What am I learning during this hard time?
What’s my part in this? What might I take responsibility for?
What can I control? What can’t I? What can I let go of?
What boundaries might I set?
How might I channel more patience, compassion, resilience, grit, etc.?
What do I need to communicate and to whom?
What’s on the other side of this hard moment? How will I make it there?
What can I trust right now?
What if I stopped pretending to be tough right now?
Where or when do I feel at peace?
What’s the expansive view I can take of this situation?
Who else do I know who has gone through something similar?
Where is the lightness in this situation? Where can I still find joy?
How can I best take care of myself?
Let your answers guide you through the hard times. See you in the Arby’s drive thru!
This originally appeared in my Autumn 2019 email newsletter. To get on the list and receive this and other goodies in your inbox, sign up at the bottom of the home page pamdaghlian.com .