When I look online, I can see that some people respond to a time of overwhelming crisis with an “OKAY, IT’S BEEN 24 HOURS, CRYING’S OVER, BOOTS ON THE GROUND, HERE IS OUR 20-PART COMPREHENSIVE GLOBAL ACTION PLAN.” It is good to have those people. That is not the kind of person I am, or the kind of person I live with. Some of the things we are doing at our house:
• Removing a bunch of Personal Eating Rules, for the time being. Some of us normally eat keto, or low-calorie, or low-salt/fat or whatever, and right now we don’t have the bandwidth to handle What Just Happened AND food restrictions. I felt similarly in the early days of the pandemic.
• Resting more, when possible. Going to bed earlier and sleeping later, when possible. Lounging around more. Treating ourselves as if we’re recovering from a serious illness.
• Not Thinking About It, when possible; Thinking About It Later, when possible. Letting it sink in slowly and from a certain distance, to avoid mental devastation. Avoiding catastrophizing about What Could (and Likely Will) Happen: there are too many of those, and running around in panicked hyperventilating circles isn’t going to help. Trying to think of the future as unknown, and still including the possibility of good surprises, EVEN IN THIS TIMELINE.
• Skipping some chores, where possible. Some chores truly must be done, and some chores make life harder if they’re put off; but some chores will be fine if they wait awhile past the time they would ordinarily have been done. Imagine if you lived alone, and had the flu or broke your leg and couldn’t clean the bathroom floor for awhile: all would still be well. But you’d still have to have to figure out the litter box no matter what.
• Doing some tasks, in cases where those tasks relieve stress. Pick that empty cardboard box up off the floor and take it to the garage: the cats are done playing with it, and breaking it down and carrying it out takes 60 seconds and gets that box out of my sight/way. Place an online order for the taco powder: it feels silly because I could buy it in a store if I went out of my way to go to that one store where it’s the one thing I buy—but also I could order it online right this second and then I can cross that errand off my to-do list.
• Medicating, when possible/needed. I have a prescription for a mild sedative. I hoard them, because my doctor gives me so few tablets per year; but this is the sort of event that makes me wonder what I’m hoarding them for if not for this, so I am using them sometimes.
• Looking into other countries that might be better places to live, and might be open to accepting United States citizens (this is some of the kids, not so much Paul and me; some of my friends say their kids are doing this too).
• Replacing our large campaign flag with our large equality flag.
• Bringing treats to work. I brought a big box of doughnut holes (I ordered a box of 50, and the cashier gave me more like 65-70) and we all stood around the box for the half hour before the library opened, eating one doughnut hole after another and talking about how we could hardly cope, and it was so therapeutic. Even after the library opened, we kept visiting the box like birds at a feeder, saying “I’m just going to have one more.”
• We’d already signed up back in October to sponsor two children through our local service organization’s Christmas-supplementing program, and we were assigned those children the day after the election, which was wonderful timing and felt like a small counterbalance to the immense badness so many people just voted for. And now I can divert some of my attention to thinking about which combination of the items on the wish lists I want to fulfill, and looking through as many pages of options for each item as I feel like, and that is a pretty good thing to focus on. (We got two little girls this time, and the parent noted “GIRLY girls–pink/flowers/butterflies” on the form. I have received an enormous gift.)
• Donating money to organizations. The ACLU. NPR. Wikipedia. Etc.
• Watching calm TV. Reading calm books. I had a fiction book in my library pile about women who acquire superpowers along with menopause and use it to fight evil, and I can’t cope with books about fighting evil right now. I don’t want to feel riled by the descriptions of the types of evil I suspect these women will be fighting, which we are going to have to fight in real life without superpowers. I am reading Tom Lake by Ann Patchett instead (I have heard complaints that “nothing happens,” which sounds perfect, and I love Ann Patchett’s writing and she can write about cleaning bathroom floors for all I care); and I finally read a book I got for Christmas called Extra Helping: Recipes for Caring, Connecting, and Building Community One Dish at a Time, by Janet Reich Elsbach, and that was very much the right thing: lots of talk about using food to take care of people who are ill or grieving, along with relatable references to how the author began focusing on this in 2016.
• Trying to think in terms of what we can do to help/support others. I have heard so many times, in so many contexts, that turning outward can be a huge help—particularly when turning inward is all misery. I don’t mean just the big things we may need to work on in the future, I also mean things like can I bring my co-workers some doughnut holes, can I bake my friend some brownies, can I send my friend a card/email. The Extra Helping book I mentioned in the last paragraph had a lot of good stuff about how you can find your OWN ways to help, the things that come naturally to YOU: we don’t all have to bake bread or make phone calls, we can do the things that work with our own skills and inclinations. Maybe some of us make and deliver a huge pot of soup to a grieving family, and others of us go through the grocery store and fill a basket with bakery muffins and little yogurts and a frozen Stouffer’s lasagna and drop THAT off. You don’t have to feel bad that you don’t know how to make soup and don’t want to make soup and don’t know how to transport soup and don’t have a big soup pot anyway.
• Trying to get some fresh air and exercise. Some of us are inclined toward vigorous burn-off-the-rage exercise, and some of us are inclined toward convalescent/recuperation/restorative exercise, and some of us are going back and forth depending on mood. I’ve recently started pelvic-floor therapy (more on this another day), and my homework this week involves taking huge belly breaths (and attempting at the same time to “relax the pelvic floor,” something I cannot feel AT ALL, which is one reason I am in pelvic-floor therapy), and the physical therapist said pointedly (this was the day after the election, and both of us were pale and quiet) that this was also very good for stress and anxiety.
• Spending time with other people who feel similarly about All This, and how serious and dangerous it is.
• Avoiding people who want to explain how actually this is the Democrats’ fault, and/or who seem to have no understanding of what has just happened here, and/or who want to have bad-faith discussions about it. Re-setting some boundaries.
Gentle hugs from an emotional support Canadian.
OMG, emotional support Canadians are real!
You cannot imagine the reassurance that gives me.
I set up a monthly donation to the ACLU today. Going to subscribe to the Abortion Every Day substack (I can’t subscribe to all the substacks, I’m always thinking in a panicked fashion – so will subscribe to one). Cleaned up a few Halloween decorations but not all of them. I told my husband we could watch Shrinking tonight, but not The Old Man.
I do really value being reminded that we don’t have to find ways to help that feel the worst and hardest to us. I have a habit of thinking that nothing I do is worthwhile unless it is really hard and uncomfortable, which is often counter-productive and keeps me from helping in ways that would be more natural.
I lost my mom in August after her dementia progressed. I thought that I had worked through the acute grief, but lo and behold, I’m right back crying in the shower every morning. So I am treating myself just like I did in the immediate aftermath of her death: very very gently, doing no more than the bare minimum.
At the time, it helped me to think of myself as a soft-shell crab. I might look relatively normal, but I am fragile and just had a big chunk of my insides ripped out, and I am pinchy and stabby with very little provocation.
I think that’s a pretty good description of where I, and many of my friends and loved ones, are right now.
That is such an excellent description!
Another Canadian sending all the love.
And another Canadian also sending all the love.
Solidarity from Ireland. Your post made me think of a line from John O’Donoghue’s “For one who is exhausted”: “Be excessively gentle with yourself”. Very hard to do, and very much the wise thing to do. Hang in there. Those children are going to love their Christmas gifts.
Sending more love from Australia via London. I hope it feels comforting to know there are many many of us thinking of you all ❤️
And another Australian sending love
I love all these suggestions! I’ll add what I’ve been doing because I love reading these and seeing what others are doing this week.
1. I cut out a big red broken heart and laminated it. Then I taped it on my Harris/Walz sign in my front yard. It felt like the right amount of public grieving for me. My neighbors and people out on the sidewalks have been stopping by to commiserate and that’s been very soothing.
2. I treated myself to a new needlepoint project and then spent a large chunk of time browsing for new threads. That was very calming and fun.
3. I cut myself slack on the dinner front. The kids have been eating pizza and easy stuff.
Fellow American sending shocked numbness and despair. Still in wallowing grief stage here.
Thank you for this and for being a space where people can gather. With the exception of my daughter I have no one in my life who feels the horror and grief I do right now. It’s comforting to find other people who get it.
This. I am a blue dot in a red sea. That red sea includes most of my family, my neighbors and everyone at my workplace. It is so. very. hard. to listen to them reveling and cheering because their guy won. I remain silent because I watched them harass and bully the last guy who spoke out against the orange menace – to the point of setting him up for failure, firing him and then gloating that they got rid of “the enemy”. (This is by far the best paying job I’ve ever had and I have 11 months to retirement so I’m just laying low until then)
I’m so sorry Laura, that would be so difficult to hear on a daily basis. Hang in there, 11 months will pass quickly and maybe you can distract yourself by planning projects or trips or whatever you hope to do in retirement. You have a lot to look forward to!
Please post an announcement of your freedom on whatever Swistle posts around your retirement date. We worry.
I second this. I would love to see an “I’m FREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” comment follow-up.
I will be sure to let everyone know! I’m incredibly grateful for Swistle and this community – thank you, thank you, thank you!
I’m so sorry. I also am blue surrounded by a lot of red but at least haven’t dealt with crap like that. We do pass a lot of bragging yard signs that annoy me to no end. It is just a sad reminder of how differently I view the world than others.
We’re doing many of the same things over here: setting up recurring donations, subscribing to Substacks of independent journalists I value, continuing to make the house a place of comfort and refuge even more than normal, setting boundaries. It’s both something (drops in the bucket) and does not feel like enough to my catestrophizing brain. Man, that brain can envision some dire times ahead and I am both ragey and bewildered. How do I prepare for them all? One day at a time, I am mantra-ing to myself. One day at a time.
I’m glad you’re finding strategies that work for you. I am still trying to figure it out.
“Strategies” and “that work” both vastly, VASTLY overstate the situation. This is just a description of what we are currently doing as we attempt to stay tethered to the earth.
One thing we did was to adopt a cat from our local shelter, one week before the election. We specifically asked for an older cat who had the temperament to be a lap cat—like, an emotional therapy cat—to help us get through the election. While Bernie the Impossible Cat hasn’t in any way been THAT, he has certainly been a distraction, and distractions do help, at least a little. (And we love him anyway!)
Another small balm has been reading this blog and the replies. I keep coming to tears when I read the comments from people in other countries. It’s so unexpected, to think that people so far away would know how much some of us are grieving.
Nothing can really help in this nightmare, but these small balms can help sustain life. As someone put it, “It’s not ENOUGH. But it’s SOMETHING.”
I appreciate the ideas and commiseration. Hugs to all.
And I’m here to say that I LOVED Tom Lake. It made me want a cherry farm in Michigan. I appreciated the mother – daughter dynamics and really enjoyed how the main character’s story unfolded. I can reccomend the audio book read by MerylStreep!
Love this! Ann Patchett is local for me and seems like a reallly lovely person (mostly just based on my observations of her when she’s in her bookstore). I have loved all her essays in recent years too.
On Wednesday I had leftover pizza for lunch, an excellent emotional support food. My sister in law texted to check in and I told her about it. She said, OMG, she ate a whole gf pizza and took the day off work. Our mutual sister in law took her kids out for pizza, so that’s how we all coped. Hugs (and apologies- we don’t like Ted Cruz either) from TX.
I love this – what a helpful post. When dealing with grief, it’s so important to take care of ourselves and treat ourselves gently. Thank you for writing this. I love all the emotional support Canadians!
I am in full Thinking About it Later mode, with plans to pour my energy into local causes and local people only once I am ready. No more big picture trying to change in unwilling world for me, and I’m putting a pause on anyone who insists that there must be. Also FWIW I really loved Tom Lake…I hope you do also.
I appreciate all the people checking in here from all over the world and understanding that a big chunk of us are horrified. I am still feeling sick about it, but on the bright side, there’s been some serious rage cleaning going on in my house. My junk drawers haven’t looked this good in years.
Thank you for sharing these ideas. I’m looking forward to your future pelvic floor therapy post. I have been wondering about that since I had my last baby but am really hesitant.
Oh, that is not the kind of person I am, either! My only very slight comfort of last week was learning that Kamala got 43% of the vote in Florida—not enough, obviously, but it makes me feel less like the only blue dot in this red state.
A friend of mine from work saw a Tik Tok where someone said those of us who “get it” should wear blue friendship bracelets because she felt like she was in a space where she didn’t know who to trust. Now we are all spending time that may otherwise be spent doom-scrolling making blue bracelets for all the women we know who are devastated. I’m not sure how you feel about cheap and easy crafts, but making friendship bracelets has been helpful for me.
I felt completely devastated after the 2016 election. Since then, I have made great strides in eliminating national politics from my daily life. I focus only on local things that I can have an impact on – protesting at the court house about reproductive rights, volunteering at places that aim to combat racism, etc. It has greatly improved my mental health. I can’t do the national stuff anymore. I just can’t. I see almost none of it.
Doing Small Things has been helping me climb out of the pit of pure rage & grief, so just in case it would help anyone else to throw money at the problem, here are some orgs that folks on Insta helped me compile:
-Planned Parenthood obvs, and ACLU and HRC, and SPLC
-wombatmhs.com – provides access to mental health services, specifically focused on queer, bipoc, and marginalized communities
-thelovelandfoundation.org – provides access to therapy focused on Black women & girls
-www.thetrevorproject.org – crisis services, advocacy, & support for LGBTQ+ young people
-www.midwestaccesscoalition.org, or http://www.flaccessnetwork.org, or any other org providing out-of-state abortion access & care for people in states with bans
-themarshallproject.org – a nonpartisan, nonprofit news organization that seeks to create and sustain a sense of national urgency about the U.S. criminal justice system & the reform it requires
-unduemedicaldebt.org – used to be RIP Medical debt, buys back medical debt in bulk on behalf of individuals
-bailproject.org – covers bail for those in need
My brain has been spinning non-stop. I started playing Beat Saber again on my husband’s VR and that helps both from the activity & music side of things and also because I end up using that time to script out the potential family conversations that may happen at xmas.
My immediate family is Jewish (lost family in the Holocaust and in the Pogroms) and several of us are neurodivergent so I’ve been reviewing the timeline of Nazi Germany and using that to try to figure out how/what to prepare. So far I’ve got passport appointments scheduled for our kids and I have mine ready to be sent in for renewal, but I’m also making sure we have official copies of all our birth certificates, marriage license, social security cards, etc.
I pulled out our estate planning docs so that we could review our trust, wills, POAs, and Advanced Care Directives. I need to scan the docs that have our wet signatures so that we have those saved and my husband is checking to see if we actually moved any of our assets into the trust.
Aside from that, we adopted a couple new cats last month and they’re delightful distractions. One of our previous cats and one of the new cats are struggling to be friends so I’m spending far more time trying to figure out how to support that relationship than I am able to engage in political stuff. I basically remember to read Heather Cox Richardson’s posts every few days and that’s the limit of what I can handle at the moment.
I have been quietly weeping over this post and the comments. It seems like shock has prevented me from really processing our reality. This is truly a lovely, lovely space and I am so grateful for it. It does help to know I’m not alone, and that others (worldwide, even!) care.