A Crisis In Coping
Photo by Cottonbro
By Sterling Hawkins, MSW, LCSW-C, LICSW
I attended a conference on suicide last month. Death by suicide is trending up again following the Pandemic, which started me thinking about those individuals that are considered high-risk and also those without known risk factors. No matter how we define ourselves, our human condition unites us in the ways we experience our internal landscape or the factors that place people at risk for a crisis. The simplest definition of a crisis is— a time of great disagreement, confusion, or suffering. I believe that it is safe to say that everyone living has experienced or will experience a period of crisis. While each of us may exhibit a vast array of emotions leading up to a crisis, how we survive in the aftermath has a lot to do with preparation given that crises are a fact of life.
Our capacity for anticipating and interpreting what is happening is key. Biochemical changes in the brain react to external stimuli and cause us to behave in similar ways at various times. Adverse historical experiences may also influence what happens leading up to a crisis. There are other factors as well, least of which involve the misinterpretation of what we witness occurring in our own life or the lives of others we know personally, and how these feelings intersect, change, or remain the same over time. When we know the science about the mind and body, and how they are designed to function in what can loosely be defined as normal situations, we can then learn to regulate these factors using behavioral and Psychopharmacol interventions.
We live our lives on a continuum. Drive the body or mind too aggressively in a particular direction and you will experience a crisis. So, I began by asking the question— What are the drivers that enable us to survive crises for those who may not be suicidal, but are simply stressed, angry, or hopeless?
In not wanting to oversimplify a very complex subject, I will restrict my comments to what I have learned from my own personal experience and in working closely with others. There are three fundamental and overlapping principles that I have found helpful when it comes to crisis management. I’ll briefly share each of these.
Having realistic expectations about yourself and others
Even in the absence of illness and disability, we are challenged. We each have expectations for ourselves and others. At times it’s easy to follow the momentum of what worked well for us in the past. Success and accomplishments eventually do wane. Having realistic expectations essentially means not being afraid to ask yourself questions and being willing to re-evaluate your worldview, values, and personal beliefs.
Choosing a proper point of reference
Being able to live with a positive outlook means accepting your strengths and your weaknesses while making improvements wherever possible but recognizing that not everything circumstantially may change. The concept of having a transcendent versus imminent point of reference becomes critical. It is known that anything belonging to our material world can be damaged, destroyed, or taken from us. So, when loss, sickness, or death occurs we have nothing left apart from the memory of what was. A belief in God or something outside of the “self” that transcends our material world is a rational way that gives our life meaning and purpose and balances individual potential with our human tendencies toward failure, and those influences in our life over which we have no control.
Being patient and allowing certain others to help you.
Our individual blueprints are under constant revision. Too many suggestions from too many sources create enormous mental and physical pressure that will paralyze your personal growth and development in the areas you need it the most. So, when seeking help, carefully reach out to those who know you best and care about you. Reach out to those persons who are willing to be truthful and make sacrifices without bargaining or secondary gains. Certain outcomes following a crisis may teach you things that will enrich your life. In the moment, all may seem hopeless. However, our reference point is often the equivalent of viewing a single frame from a full-length film.
“THIS EXPERIENCE TAUGHT ME THAT AT TIMES THERE ARE NO VISIBLE INDICATORS.”
In the late 1980s, I received a letter from the mother of a friend and former college classmate named Sandy. For several years after graduation Sandy and I kept in touch by writing letters and using 60-minute cassette tapes to document the stories occurring in each of our lives for the other to listen to. These tapes we would send each other every two or three months cataloged the highs and lows in our lives and our shared faith. I had not heard from Sandy for almost 6 months after writing to him the previous summer when the letter from his mother arrived. I was a stranger to her. We had never met. She began by congratulating me on my new job which she apparently learned about from the letter that I had sent to Sandy the previous year. She then told me that Sandy had committed suicide and that he had been sick on and off and that he suffered in the end.
After working through the grief, I couldn’t seem to shake how if I had known Sandy was ill, I could have supported him emotionally, and perhaps he would not have ended his life. I struggled to identify missed cues and questions I failed to ask. This experience taught me that at times there are no visible indicators. Particularly when geography is a barrier. Was it just complacency, assuming everything was fine, or a comfortably loose connection?
Back then there was no social media, no Facebook, Instagram, or Snapchat. So often, the lives of friends and families remained shrouded in mystery until we could see them in person.
Had I known Sandy was ill I would have traveled up north from Florida where I was living at the time to see him. I would have done whatever I could to let him know I was there for him and try to keep him from sinking emotionally past the point of rescue. I would have tried to help him not to escape the sorrow but tried to support him while embracing it. His mother’s letter was brief because to her I was a stranger known only through the letter I had written. She had no obligation to express more details. The weight of her son’s death I am certain was made even heavier as she penned her reply to me.
Expressing compassion toward those who suffer in the midst of their darkest night is something we must always be willing to do. To ask challenging questions without judgment or denial we must accept the fact that we too are just as vulnerable in certain ways at certain times. And, that those in crisis require of us the capacity to love.
There’s more of course to crisis management and intervention than just these three approaches. This is simply a primer for anyone considering what insulating strategies aid in preparing for and coping well in the aftermath of an emotional crisis.
In the words of Jordan Peterson— “There are so many ways that things can fall apart or fail to work altogether, and it is always wounded people who are holding it together.”