In which she feels like a potted petunia
Mar. 21st, 2020 05:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zeborahIn the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (coincidentally, I happen to be 42 years old at the moment) -- at least as I recall it -- there's an infinitely improbably scene in which a whale and a potted petunia come into existence high over a planet. As they hurtle towards the ground, each has its own interior monologue. The whale goes through such questions as who am I? where am I? what's happening? what's that big round thing rushing towards me?
The potted petunia thinks, Oh no, not again.
In the 2010 and 2011 earthquakes, I was more or less the whale. (With the exception of "I wonder if it will be my friend.") Right now, I'm more of a potted petunia.
One difference between the events externally is that in the earthquakes, everything shut down very abruptly. Right now in New Zealand, things are shutting down bit by bit. It feels like the world contracting.
Another difference is that it's global. Everyone reading this will be affected by it, many a lot more than me.
There's really a lot of differences. There's not a lot of transferable skills from earthquake disaster to global pandemic disaster. (Unless people block the sewerage system by flushing wetwipes and I have to dig another short-drop in the garden until they fix it or bring back the chemical toilet system.)
But one thing's the same, and that's cognitive dissonance.
Our brains are set up to run pretty efficiently (give or take mental quirks or illnesses) in The World As We Know It. But when the world suddenly changes, the brain has to do a whole lot of adjusting. It's like wearing a pair of glasses that make the world look upside down (or the right way up) -- you'll eventually get used to it, but first you'll get a lot of headaches and stubbed toes.
One of the simplest ways for the brain to deal with dissonance is denial. That's why a lot of people are insisting it's not as serious as it is. It's also why people have failed to self-isolate and then turned out yes actually is in fact infectious whoops.
Another way is to try and fit the new reality into what we already believe about the world. That's why a lot of people are insisting that [insert conspiracy theory here].
They're wrong, and it's dangerous, but it's also human and understandable and I think it doesn't help to get mad at them. (People who are intentionally spreading disinformation in order to, say, make a fortune on the stock market, are different.) Arguing with them will just make them dig their heels in. So put out the truth for the benefit of others, and then leave them alone.
When you've accepted that it's true, then you want to do something about it to mitigate the risk to yourself, eg buy up supplies to see you through. This makes things worse for society as a whole, but on an individual level it's pretty rational. (Even in NZ where the supermarkets are promising they've got enough stock, they're not currently able to deliver it to people self-isolating in a timely and accurate manner. So why would you trust that it won't get worse?) Similarly the people in NZ who want to completely lock down everything when that's premature for where we're at for multiple reasons.
Again, they're wrong, and it's not great for society, but it's human and understandable.
Beyond these reactions, there's a point (and I should note that, like the famously misinterpreted stages of grief, these don't necessarily follow tidily on from each other) where your brain's starting to get the hang of it. "Oh, sure, we're in a pandemic, we don't get to visit anyone or touch anything, this is normal," it says.
And next minute it says, "HOLD ON THIS IS NOT NORMAL NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS NORMAL!!!"
And then it says "Yes it is, we're in a pandemic remember and this is normal for a pandemic."
And then it says "A GLOBAL PANDEMIC! YOU FORGOT TO MENTION THE GLOBAL PART! THAT'S NOT NORMAL IT'S SCIENCE FICTION WHAT ARE WE DOING LIVING IN A SCIENCE-FICTION NOVEL???"
These two, rapidly cycling between each other, is the stage of cognitive dissonance that I'm in right now.
Combined with the potted petunia "Oh no, not again," because I've done the 2010 earthquake and the 2011 earthquake and so many aftershocks I've forgotten them all, there was the June ones, and Boxing Day, and ten thousand others; and then there was the Port Hills fires, though only some of my family evacuated for that; and the 15 March mosque massacres last year, though that only touched me in tangential parts of my life; and I keep remembering a phone survey, probably Civil Defense, after one of the early quakes asking whether I thought it could happen again. Oh, sure, I said. Once it's happened once it's a lot easier to imagine it happening again.
And the weird thing about adrenaline and the resulting addiction thereto, or the let-down thereafter, or the stress of waiting and wondering, or something, is that sometimes I find myself wishing it would happen again and get it over with. And the next moment saying no, no, definitely not, I take it back, Ctrl-Z that wish.
And when it does happen again: "Oh no, not again," in various shades of resignation through to fury.
[As I type this, libraries and rec centres have emailed to announce their closure. Mum's also emailed to ask me to keep an eye out for yeast. Everyone in the city and their dog is keeping an eye out for yeast: I bought some from Bin Inn just this morning for a friend who couldn't find it elsewhere. I've got enough myself though, and it will be back on the shelves in due course.]
New Zealand is currently [last I checked] at 52 cases, most known to be from travel or very closely related to it: there may be a tiny bit of community transmission but not yet much, and we're testing per capita at least the same rate as South Korea did. So I'm hopeful we'll be able to go with the model of: two months stringent lockdown, one month relax restrictions, long-term until we hopefully get a vaccine. (Probably it'll be more nuanced again, locking down individual schools/regions as needed.) Which means there'll be a lot more "Oh no, not again"s in the future -- even barring other potential earthquakes, fires, floods, volcanoes, tsunamis, etc.
[And just got a text that work is stopping lectures for courses with more than 100 enrolled. At this rate I'm never going to finish writing this post.]
Okay, point is I wanted to say to everyone: I can't give much good advice about getting through a pandemic, except that anything written by Dr Siouxsie Wiles is well worth the time to read.
But if you've got any questions about the emotional side of things, I've got you. For example:
You probably get the idea but feel free to ask your own questions!
I can also recommend what I fondly call the "mental health propaganda" that has characterised Christchurch earthquake recovery. The All right? website has a tonne of articles and resources. Some are earthquake specific and some are New Zealand specific but there's so much there you may well find something that speaks to you.
The potted petunia thinks, Oh no, not again.
In the 2010 and 2011 earthquakes, I was more or less the whale. (With the exception of "I wonder if it will be my friend.") Right now, I'm more of a potted petunia.
One difference between the events externally is that in the earthquakes, everything shut down very abruptly. Right now in New Zealand, things are shutting down bit by bit. It feels like the world contracting.
Another difference is that it's global. Everyone reading this will be affected by it, many a lot more than me.
There's really a lot of differences. There's not a lot of transferable skills from earthquake disaster to global pandemic disaster. (Unless people block the sewerage system by flushing wetwipes and I have to dig another short-drop in the garden until they fix it or bring back the chemical toilet system.)
But one thing's the same, and that's cognitive dissonance.
Our brains are set up to run pretty efficiently (give or take mental quirks or illnesses) in The World As We Know It. But when the world suddenly changes, the brain has to do a whole lot of adjusting. It's like wearing a pair of glasses that make the world look upside down (or the right way up) -- you'll eventually get used to it, but first you'll get a lot of headaches and stubbed toes.
One of the simplest ways for the brain to deal with dissonance is denial. That's why a lot of people are insisting it's not as serious as it is. It's also why people have failed to self-isolate and then turned out yes actually is in fact infectious whoops.
Another way is to try and fit the new reality into what we already believe about the world. That's why a lot of people are insisting that [insert conspiracy theory here].
They're wrong, and it's dangerous, but it's also human and understandable and I think it doesn't help to get mad at them. (People who are intentionally spreading disinformation in order to, say, make a fortune on the stock market, are different.) Arguing with them will just make them dig their heels in. So put out the truth for the benefit of others, and then leave them alone.
When you've accepted that it's true, then you want to do something about it to mitigate the risk to yourself, eg buy up supplies to see you through. This makes things worse for society as a whole, but on an individual level it's pretty rational. (Even in NZ where the supermarkets are promising they've got enough stock, they're not currently able to deliver it to people self-isolating in a timely and accurate manner. So why would you trust that it won't get worse?) Similarly the people in NZ who want to completely lock down everything when that's premature for where we're at for multiple reasons.
Again, they're wrong, and it's not great for society, but it's human and understandable.
Beyond these reactions, there's a point (and I should note that, like the famously misinterpreted stages of grief, these don't necessarily follow tidily on from each other) where your brain's starting to get the hang of it. "Oh, sure, we're in a pandemic, we don't get to visit anyone or touch anything, this is normal," it says.
And next minute it says, "HOLD ON THIS IS NOT NORMAL NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS NORMAL!!!"
And then it says "Yes it is, we're in a pandemic remember and this is normal for a pandemic."
And then it says "A GLOBAL PANDEMIC! YOU FORGOT TO MENTION THE GLOBAL PART! THAT'S NOT NORMAL IT'S SCIENCE FICTION WHAT ARE WE DOING LIVING IN A SCIENCE-FICTION NOVEL???"
These two, rapidly cycling between each other, is the stage of cognitive dissonance that I'm in right now.
Combined with the potted petunia "Oh no, not again," because I've done the 2010 earthquake and the 2011 earthquake and so many aftershocks I've forgotten them all, there was the June ones, and Boxing Day, and ten thousand others; and then there was the Port Hills fires, though only some of my family evacuated for that; and the 15 March mosque massacres last year, though that only touched me in tangential parts of my life; and I keep remembering a phone survey, probably Civil Defense, after one of the early quakes asking whether I thought it could happen again. Oh, sure, I said. Once it's happened once it's a lot easier to imagine it happening again.
And the weird thing about adrenaline and the resulting addiction thereto, or the let-down thereafter, or the stress of waiting and wondering, or something, is that sometimes I find myself wishing it would happen again and get it over with. And the next moment saying no, no, definitely not, I take it back, Ctrl-Z that wish.
And when it does happen again: "Oh no, not again," in various shades of resignation through to fury.
[As I type this, libraries and rec centres have emailed to announce their closure. Mum's also emailed to ask me to keep an eye out for yeast. Everyone in the city and their dog is keeping an eye out for yeast: I bought some from Bin Inn just this morning for a friend who couldn't find it elsewhere. I've got enough myself though, and it will be back on the shelves in due course.]
New Zealand is currently [last I checked] at 52 cases, most known to be from travel or very closely related to it: there may be a tiny bit of community transmission but not yet much, and we're testing per capita at least the same rate as South Korea did. So I'm hopeful we'll be able to go with the model of: two months stringent lockdown, one month relax restrictions, long-term until we hopefully get a vaccine. (Probably it'll be more nuanced again, locking down individual schools/regions as needed.) Which means there'll be a lot more "Oh no, not again"s in the future -- even barring other potential earthquakes, fires, floods, volcanoes, tsunamis, etc.
[And just got a text that work is stopping lectures for courses with more than 100 enrolled. At this rate I'm never going to finish writing this post.]
Okay, point is I wanted to say to everyone: I can't give much good advice about getting through a pandemic, except that anything written by Dr Siouxsie Wiles is well worth the time to read.
But if you've got any questions about the emotional side of things, I've got you. For example:
- Q: Is it normal to feel constantly anxious?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to feel really tired?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to not really believe this is happening?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to feel angry about everything?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to not feel much of anything?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to want to comfort all my friends, no, scratch that, everyone?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to want everyone to comfort me?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to be literally shaking all the time?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to walk into a room and forget why I went there, or to start making really stupid typos?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to be crying all the time?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to not be able to cry at all?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to be wanting to joke about it?
A: Yes. - Q: Is it normal to hate people making jokes about it?
A: Yes.
You probably get the idea but feel free to ask your own questions!
I can also recommend what I fondly call the "mental health propaganda" that has characterised Christchurch earthquake recovery. The All right? website has a tonne of articles and resources. Some are earthquake specific and some are New Zealand specific but there's so much there you may well find something that speaks to you.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-21 04:41 am (UTC)Hope you're finding yourself in present conditions of material security and not too much environmental unreason.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-21 05:00 am (UTC)*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2020-03-21 05:06 am (UTC)I guess internet hugs are safe though. *hugs back*
no subject
Date: 2020-03-21 05:23 am (UTC)...As uncomfortable as it is to think that this may be the start of the clearer part of the fall of Western Civilisation. I'm trying not to think about that too much apart from acting in certain ways as if it's true.
The New Zealand government is doing a sterling job, suppressing the spread/supporting the health sector, buffering the inevitable economic upheaval, and being a calming influence. Most people, and certainly organisations, are acting pretty sensibly as a result. My workplace has excellent leave policies, and even if it didn't I have a house, money in the bank, friends and family and neighbours, a vegetable garden, and asthma medication so long as the supply chains last. In short, I feel pretty much as well off as you can be without being a billionaire with a bunker.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-21 03:05 pm (UTC)Glad your material circumstances are solid!