How to stop rehearsing for tragedy
Eight years ago, one of my students was standing behind the car with her husband, loading in some furniture they had just bought. She moved to the passenger door to grab something, when another car came screeching around the corner, rear-ending them, and pinning her husband between the cars. When she ran over, her husband was lying on the ground, unconscious and bleeding with massive internal injuries and injuries that would lead to the loss of his leg.
She called 9-1-1 and went into functional mode, answering questions from the EMTs, filling out paperwork, making sure he went to the bigger hospital, the one that was more likely to be equipped to handle an accident of this magnitude. She was in shock, but she was filled with adrenaline that numbed her, so she could do what needed to be done. He had multiple surgeries over the following says days, then months of hospitals, rehab, and recovery.
That was almost eight years ago, and she’s not sure if the shock has worn off yet, but she knows one thing: no amount of lying in bed wondering what it would be like if her husband got hit by a car could have protected her from that experience.
We can use our brains to do incredible things - we can plan and dream and set goals. We can come up with contingency plans and think through our options. Other times, we run through the worst possible outcome as a form of torture, rehearsing for every possible tragedy that could befall us. We remain convinced that the moment things are good, that devastation is just around the corner.
So how do we know if we are rehearsing tragedy, or planning for the future? I like to stop and ask this question:
Am I vertical or horizontal?
This is the first crucial question for a lot of mental exercises. Are you like this?
If you are horizontal: if you’re in bed and it’s 3AM, if you are curled up in a ball on the couch, if you have collapsed on the floor in a fit of anxiety, it’s likely you are rehearsing tragedy. That is not often the posture of rational, productive, beneficial thought patterns. Horizontal is the territory of the Doom Spiral. You will end up with every thought dissolving into - and I’ll be miserable and die alone.
This is a mental exercise that should be stoped immediately. We can replace that mental pattern with some deep breathing, a reassuring phrase, some identifying of things you see in the room. (See the video at the end of this post for details.)
But what if you’re more like these folks?
If you are vertical, then, you’ve got a chance to try some advanced work here. If your spine is long and your eyes are open and your heart is lifted, there is a chance you can take the thing you are panicked about, and play it out.
How would we actually deal with something catastrophic? When we stop at holy shit that would suck so much if this terrible thing happened - we don’t allow for our emotions to complete the cycle. When we stop at the one thing that feels most scary, and we feel shoved into the corner and we don’t take another step. (Of course, there are times when you are vertical and you’re still in Doom mode, so assess that for yourself.)
So.
What if you do get fired?
What if that friend doesn’t forgive you?
What if you need to deal with this chronic illness?
In that moment, what would you literally do? Step by step?
Not how would it feel, because of course it’s going to feel like trash. But you’ve felt like trash before, that’s not so novel. But what would actions would you actually take? Maybe you would polish up your resume and look for a new job. You would mourn the loss of a friendship but you’d move on. You would learn how to do the things you need to do to take care of yourself in a new physical reality.
Our bodies are very smart and a little bit dumb
When we rehearse tragedy, we think we can prepare ourselves for the terrible things so that it’ll hurt less when it actually happens. It doesn’t work that way.
All that does is run our poor body through a painful gauntlet. Our bodies don’t know that it’s not actually happening. If I yell as a joke in front of my sweet rescue dog, Olive, she doesn’t know I’m playing. She assumes there is a massive problem. She shakes and cowers and looks like the world is ending.
The body is like my dog. When I think about my husband getting in a car accident, or the next wave of COVID, my body gets shaky and cowers. My heart rate increases, my palms get sweaty. My body doesn’t understand it’s just a thought. So I want to stop that detrimental mind pattern.
We need to do what we can to help the body feel safe, and remember that it’s not back there, on the street watching our beloved person bleeding on the ground.
In this moment, we are here and we are okay.
And if you’re currently panicking - check out this video: