I feel all the feels right along with you, Julia -- I've often said I could give seminars in catastrophic thinking. In a way, I find that propensity a strength right now because I've learned not to give my imaginings too much power. Even the ones that could be called reasonable. Whatever comes we will deal with it -- and I think those of us, yes even us women, who've grown up with white privilege like I have can learn a lot from Black people and gay people and all the people who have never had any illusions about this being a friendly, safe country for them.
Thanks Jan, and so very true. You live in a part of the country where so much has been stripped away. I once considered living there, and am so glad I didn’t. I ache for so many of us for whom the next few years are going to be rough going.
I am very grateful that my Idaho grandnieces all attend college in CA and CO. But I worry about all the other women of childbearing age who live in Idaho.
They're certainly heading out of Idaho. We've lost at least 20%, and some crucial birthing centers -- and that's way before the election. And all those OBGYNs who are leaving could be taking their medical professional significant others with them . . .
I would bet on it. I thought this issue would decide it for women but certainly White women didn’t feel it was important enough for themselves, their daughters and their granddaughters. I find that horrific. For someone pledging to protect women his cabinet choices sure are intriguing.
Such a beautiful and deeply kind piece. By sharing your despair and your resilience for moving forward, you give all of your readers permission to do the same. "Feel the fear and do it anyway!" Thank you for this today -- it's exactly what so many of us needed to hear. Big hugs.
Thank you Stephanie. WE are fools to want to live a life that is free of occasional despair. It's just life. We're not handling it well, and I'm determined not to go that route.
Julia, what an insightful essay. Your points are so valid and spot-on. I came from a family steeped in the types of catastrophic thoughts that you mention, and I have been in therapy trying to deal with catastrophic thinking, which got much worse -- understandably -- when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, as you know. After treatment ended, every little ache and pain assailed me, and I thought so much about "is the cancer back?"
I love and live by this line: "Feeling fear and doing it anyway is courage." I feared going to each oncology appointment, going to all sorts of doctors, I feared the medical system, I feared my own body, but I still went to appointments as scared shitless as I was. And I kept exercising and taking care of the body I was so scared of.
going through a particularly difficult time in my life, when some of my worst fears actually happened, I discovered a ways to mitigate my worrying. I knew worrying about my loved one was using my imagination, because at least right that moment I had no idea what was going on. So, when I couldn't bring myself to imagine a positive picture, I imagined a mundane one. So, my loved one might not be dead, or in terrible trouble, but they were probably either asleep or watching tv and eating cereal.I found that imaging that was so boring, my mind would stop obsessing on the fears and was more easily distracted by things like what I was eating or watching on tv.
The idea that we can be utterly BORED by catastrophizing is immensely powerful. This is what I mean by changing our mind, Louisa, which is the hardest thing to do. I've got a story brewing about this very thing and I'd like to quote you in it. Please let me know.
Oh thank you, such wise words, needed. Yes we need to feel it all to live well. Ouch many times, yet as you beautifully write, that is what keeps us alive. I thought in my 60s I would be over the self sabotaging catastrophic thinking. Maybe I can tolerate it more now, without drowning 🤔
I think that’s the whole point- the water doesn’t stop rising, we learn not only how not to drown but how to swim, then we learn how to surf the tsunami.
What a great piece. I'm with you on the home expenditures- earlier this year had to borrow $24K to redo the roof because I didn't want to pull it from my retirement. Le sigh. We can't sell and head out, because we brought 90 year old MIL to live with us earlier this year since she can't live alone anymore. Am grateful to live in a somewhat blue area north of Seattle. Makes staying here bearable. Years ago I had envisioned driving women from Idaho, but caring for MIL makes that impossible.
I feel all the feels right along with you, Julia -- I've often said I could give seminars in catastrophic thinking. In a way, I find that propensity a strength right now because I've learned not to give my imaginings too much power. Even the ones that could be called reasonable. Whatever comes we will deal with it -- and I think those of us, yes even us women, who've grown up with white privilege like I have can learn a lot from Black people and gay people and all the people who have never had any illusions about this being a friendly, safe country for them.
Thanks Jan, and so very true. You live in a part of the country where so much has been stripped away. I once considered living there, and am so glad I didn’t. I ache for so many of us for whom the next few years are going to be rough going.
I am very grateful that my Idaho grandnieces all attend college in CA and CO. But I worry about all the other women of childbearing age who live in Idaho.
I read recently that there is quite the rush of doctors headed overseas to live. I would bet many of them are ob gyns, too.
They're certainly heading out of Idaho. We've lost at least 20%, and some crucial birthing centers -- and that's way before the election. And all those OBGYNs who are leaving could be taking their medical professional significant others with them . . .
I would bet on it. I thought this issue would decide it for women but certainly White women didn’t feel it was important enough for themselves, their daughters and their granddaughters. I find that horrific. For someone pledging to protect women his cabinet choices sure are intriguing.
Such a beautiful and deeply kind piece. By sharing your despair and your resilience for moving forward, you give all of your readers permission to do the same. "Feel the fear and do it anyway!" Thank you for this today -- it's exactly what so many of us needed to hear. Big hugs.
Thank you Stephanie. WE are fools to want to live a life that is free of occasional despair. It's just life. We're not handling it well, and I'm determined not to go that route.
Julia, what an insightful essay. Your points are so valid and spot-on. I came from a family steeped in the types of catastrophic thoughts that you mention, and I have been in therapy trying to deal with catastrophic thinking, which got much worse -- understandably -- when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, as you know. After treatment ended, every little ache and pain assailed me, and I thought so much about "is the cancer back?"
I love and live by this line: "Feeling fear and doing it anyway is courage." I feared going to each oncology appointment, going to all sorts of doctors, I feared the medical system, I feared my own body, but I still went to appointments as scared shitless as I was. And I kept exercising and taking care of the body I was so scared of.
I totally get what you are saying....
it’s an ongoing education, Beth.
going through a particularly difficult time in my life, when some of my worst fears actually happened, I discovered a ways to mitigate my worrying. I knew worrying about my loved one was using my imagination, because at least right that moment I had no idea what was going on. So, when I couldn't bring myself to imagine a positive picture, I imagined a mundane one. So, my loved one might not be dead, or in terrible trouble, but they were probably either asleep or watching tv and eating cereal.I found that imaging that was so boring, my mind would stop obsessing on the fears and was more easily distracted by things like what I was eating or watching on tv.
The idea that we can be utterly BORED by catastrophizing is immensely powerful. This is what I mean by changing our mind, Louisa, which is the hardest thing to do. I've got a story brewing about this very thing and I'd like to quote you in it. Please let me know.
Sure! Look forward to the piece.
It’s up,Louisa.
Oh thank you, such wise words, needed. Yes we need to feel it all to live well. Ouch many times, yet as you beautifully write, that is what keeps us alive. I thought in my 60s I would be over the self sabotaging catastrophic thinking. Maybe I can tolerate it more now, without drowning 🤔
I think that’s the whole point- the water doesn’t stop rising, we learn not only how not to drown but how to swim, then we learn how to surf the tsunami.
What a great piece. I'm with you on the home expenditures- earlier this year had to borrow $24K to redo the roof because I didn't want to pull it from my retirement. Le sigh. We can't sell and head out, because we brought 90 year old MIL to live with us earlier this year since she can't live alone anymore. Am grateful to live in a somewhat blue area north of Seattle. Makes staying here bearable. Years ago I had envisioned driving women from Idaho, but caring for MIL makes that impossible.
This one of the best writings I have ever read. Your take on living today is just on point. I'm 70 and I'm too old for this sh*t too.
That is so kind of you William. We all are, although we may not feel it at the moment. That’s just part of life.
Thank you for this. ~Wendy💜
This came at the right time, thank you for writing this post
Excellent post. Thank you for sharing.
Many thanks, Donna. Never easy, but worth the effort.
Great story and article ,Julia . Peace to you
Thank you, Mitch.