Surge Capacity
This article on understanding the pandemic and surge capacity captured everything I’ve been feeling. The definition:
Surge capacity is a collection of adaptive systems — mental and physical — that humans draw on for short-term survival in acutely stressful situations, such as natural disasters. But natural disasters occur over a short period, even if recovery is long. Pandemics are different — the disaster itself stretches out indefinitely.
In other words, the energy we’re using to power ourselves is the type of energy that lends itself well to quick crises. But we’re using it to power ourselves long-term. Like six months and counting long-term. It’s hard to renew that kind of energy because there is no downtime or escape from the pandemic except to pretend that it doesn’t exist. (And we know how well that goes…)
The article has sound advice. While I’ve heard it all before, I think the opening did a lot to frame why the advice is important.
Are you taking care of yourself? And what does that even mean?
8 comments
This is something I’ve thought about a lot over the past five-and-a-half months, although I didn’t describe it in exactly these terms. I realized fairly early on that, at least for me, this was NOT a time to take on new hobbies like baking or learning a foreign language. Instead, it was a time when I had all I could do, mentally and logistically, just to keep up with work, remote school for my kids, and the required activities of daily living.
One of the hardest parts of this pandemic has been the uncertainty: not knowing if I, or someone I love, will get sick or die, not knowing when my job and my kids’ schooling can go back to normal, not knowing when I can see friends and family again (I haven’t seen my sister in a year or my BFF — who lives in the same city — in six months). In that way, it’s a lot like infertility.
I have an occasional bad day (or hour), but for the most part, I have coped pretty well with this crisis, and I am proud of myself for this. No, I haven’t decorated any Pinterest-worthy spaces or mastered any new skills, but my family and I are all healthy and (relatively) happy. The ways I have accomplished this: sleeping at least 8 hours a night (or even a little extra about once a week or so); exercising at least 30 minutes 5-6 days a week; feeding my body healthy foods; letting things go; meditation; accepting that I am NOT going to get much done beyond the necessary; and a lot of (light) reading in my leisure time.
I like the “expect less from yourself” advice. I think we were bombarded with the opposite at the beginning of this – learn a new language! Organize your home! And I was only barely keeping it together trying to do remote school with my two anxious children, one of whom couldn’t even read yet. There are two people in my life who consistently ask what projects I’m doing or have completed and I used to feel bad saying that I haven’t done that. But I’m realizing more and more that I don’t need that. This isn’t a competition and doing those things will only add to my stress. Expecting less is something I need to embrace.
This was timely and very helpful. Thank you.
I read that article last week and it really resonated with me. I ended up sending it around to friends who are feeling the same way.
Yup. Lately I have just felt exhausted. (Having to stay inside for a week to avoid smoke from fires/worrying about said fires didn’t help.) For months I was plowing ahead—knowing I’m lucky to be healthy, lucky I have a job, a job I can do from home (except when I wasn’t allowed to), I can still exercise for my mental health, I can make going to one grocery store biweekly work, etc. No rest or being easy on myself—I was/am desperate to demonstrate I can do my demanding job from home effectively even with kids here/doing distance learning…and it seems to be catching up to me. Plus adding to the mix overt racism, innocent Black people murdered by police, fascism, one horrible cruel policy after another, etc. Hence the utter exhaustion even though I’m sleeping better than I was a couple months ago (not great, but better). and now that it’s clear this isn’t a short term deal…I guess we just keep doing what we can. Hope things will start to turn around Jan 21. Hope we remain safe until then.
On the bright side, I successfully made sourdough bread for the first time recently. (I bought some starter from a local bakery, but still. I don’t have a scale or lots of time so I had to wing it.) I’ve also made other things from scratch like bagels. Not bc I have time on my hands (I don’t) but bc going to only one store every two weeks instead of 2-3 stores every week, I don’t always get our favored items/brands/flavors etc.
Thank you for sharing this. It puts into words and gives context to the exact feelings of being mentally, physically, and emotionally drained.
Ha! I am pretty good at doing what I need to do to maintain my mental health – whether it’s sit on the couch and scroll through FB or yell at my family or yell at my family to stop all the yelling. We were baking a lot during the beginning of the pandemic, but then it got warm so we switched to eating a lot of ice cream. We don’t do a whole lot anyway, so it’s not terrible for us. We’re back to our normal schedule for a lot of things too (with some adjustments), so I feel pretty lucky.
With summer allergies kicking up, I am not super pleased to see the return of my Covid-hypochondria, though. Every sneeze or cough is a question…
Great find! I definitely feel exhausted. And sometimes, paralyzed by the uncertainty. That’s the hardest part for me — the uncertainty, the loss of normal with no end point in sight for when normal night return … And the scary thought that it might not ever be “normal” again. I think routines help me– I felt better after time in my classroom yesterday, and time planning with a coteacher. I am still super nervous about the safety aspect of school but I am ready for structure and interaction with people that separates one day from another. I’m going to need a lot of naps when I get home, and a lot of that acceptance that it’s not going to look the way it has and that’s okay. As a person who seeks control, I guess I have to find some in the little things and let go of the rest. Which is so hard. But it helps to know we’re all in it together to some extent.