Hope and fear are strangely linked. For days I have been following the Ukrainian crisis, wavering between hope that war can be averted and fear that it has begun. But by now it is obvious based on many factors -- extension of military exercises that were supposed to end today, reports that the final order had been given, Russian forces moving into attack position, Russian propaganda treating war as inevitable, and Putin's arrogant dismissal of all attempts at diplomacy -- that war is at hand.
And for a time seeing war as inevitable made it seem just a little less terrifying. Fatalism is a common way to overcome fear -- it means saying that what will happen will happen, so there is no point fearing it. Fatalism also necessarily means giving up hope. Apparently I have not become completely fatalistic about the war, because I still keep fearfully peeking at News Today to see if it has happened yet.
Mostly I have found a coping mechanism. It is based on the fact that Ukraine is nine hours ahead of where I am, and perhaps being overly influenced by the phrase "Attack at dawn." So I tend to assume that any ground attack will take place in the early hours of the morning. (Admittedly bombing and shelling can take place at night). I get up at 7:00 a.m. and check News Today to see if war has begun. Since Ukraine is nine hours ahead of us, that is 4:00 p.m. Ukrainian time and the maximum peril for the day has probably passed. When it is 3:00 p.m. our time, it is midnight in Ukraine and another day has passed without war. About 9:00 p.m. through 11:00 p.m. my time is 6:00 a.m. through 8:00 a.m. Ukraine time -- the time of maximum peril. It is also 11:00 p.m. through 1:00 a.m. Eastern time. Most media outlets have closed for the night, so they probably will not report a war till the next morning. Besides, if I keep doomscrolling I will never sleep and what good is that?
Another point. It was a very important insight at the beginning of my career reading an account by a psychiatrist who explained that the difference between paranoia in the colloquial sense and true clinical paranoia is one of degree, not of kind. Anyone being bombarded with more data than they can process becomes suspicious. People with hearing loss tend toward low-level suspicion because when they see people talking but can't hear the conversation, they wonder if people are talking about them, or if the see people laughing and can't understand the conversation, they wonder if they are being laughed at. Much the same happens to people with normal hearing around people speaking an unfamiliar language. Paranoia, he said, is simply a defect in people's data processing.
It explains a lot. Particularly, it explains the rise in paranoia with the internet. The internet means the people are being constantly bombarded with more data then they can process and become suspicious as a result. Certainly one thing I have learned is that if you value your peace of mind, do not follow a twitter thread too far. Otherwise you will be bombarded, not only with anger and invective, but with a great cacophony of conflicting opinions, all linked to seemingly credible sources that I am completely unqualified to evaluate.
And, indeed, the more I follow developments from Ukraine, the more anxious and paranoid I become. The best remedy seems to be to keep my mind occupied with something -- anything -- else.
Some advice from the novel version The Godfather on coping mechanisms for Mafia wives. Invariably the women are kept in the dark about what is going on and only learn that there is trouble when their men are killed. Sonny Corleone has gone to rescue his sister from her abusive husband and is killed along the way. Mama Corleone (we never learn her first name) is preparing for their arrival when her adoptive son gets the call that Sonny is dead. He does not tell her and
[T]he old woman had not noticed anything amiss. Not that she could not have if she wanted to, but in her life with the Don she had learned it was far wiser not to perceive. That if it was necessary to know something painful it would be told soon enough. And if it was a pin that could be spared her, she could do without.
After long hours of doom scrolling, I am starting to think that is wise advice.
No comments:
Post a Comment