Survival Mode

I loved the dystopian craze that exploded after The Hunger Games was published in 2008 and the movie debuted in 2012. Katniss, the heroine, lives in one of 13 districts in the fictional Panem, a district plagued by starvation, danger, and death. Each year, the Capitol hosts the Hunger Games, in which two adolescents from each district enter an arena and fight to the death. 

Dystopian stories hit me deep, making me imagine the kinds of threats I might face and the strength and courage I would need to muster in order to survive. I suppose I enjoyed the idea of fighting against the unjust powers that controlled Panem.

Okay, short tangent here because I have ADHD, and my brain is consistently producing more information than I can process, and because many people ask this question: Why do the heroes/heroines always look good, never go to the bathroom, and what on earth do the women do when it’s gasp their time of the month?

Well, here’s the obvious answer. I’m a little surprised no one else has figured this out yet: 

They take care of all those needs off-camera.

Duh. 

I am a pro at holding my urine. That seems like a strange thing to boast about, Jen. Well, too bad. It’s part of the story. As a preschool teacher, I was the best there ever was. But of course, that was before four babies rearranged all my internal organs. Now, it’s more about finding a comfortable position and not wanting to move even if my bladder is filling like a water balloon connected to the backyard hose. And nowadays, I value sleep more than an empty bladder. It’s not until I run around in my dreams, dramatically flinging doors open, searching for a toilet, and I find, like, 83 of them, but no matter how many times I sit down, it doesn’t relieve the pressure. When I finally reach full consciousness, the pain is so intense that the few feet between the toilet and me seem like a football field. 

If Katniss was anything like me, she either waited days before she actually stopped to pee or the more likely scenario, she was likely dehydrated because she was running for her life. 

So, yeah, that answers everyone’s questions about bathroom use in dystopian movies. Yet, even more absurd is that they found a way to do the deed.

My response to anyone proposing such a thing while I was running for my life:

Are you delirious?

I’ve been shot at, nearly blown up, and stung by tracker-jackers, I’m freezing cold and soaked to the bone, and I’m on my period, and I haven’t had a spare second to go off camera and take care of things. 

And you want to do what? 

When was the last time you brushed your teeth?

And, and, and, what??? 

We’re in a cave. On the ground. Not even soft ground, but like packed dirt and rocks. 

WHAT???

All right. Seems like it’s time to continue on to the primary purpose of this post, and that is to talk about survival mode.

Survival mode is a state of chronic stress where the body and mind are constantly in a fight-or-flight response, even when there is no immediate danger.

I’ve been in survival mode for 14 years, meaning my brain and body were fixated on survival rather than enjoying life. Between the multiple traumas, hardships, and challenges, life continued, and I missed a lot. Now that I’ve had a chance to slow down, I’ve started unpacking individual boxes, and I’m finding that I still have to handle the impact and emotion of several years' worth disappointment, discouragement, and despair.

Don't worry; I’m taking my time in opening these boxes, and often, they start to open on their own, but sometimes, I have to push the lids back down until I feel prepared to deal with them.

Now that I’ve begun opening some of those trauma boxes, I realize that for much of Al’s illness and the constant change that accompanied it, I considered myself weak, selfish, and basically, a failure. I had no idea how to be the primary breadwinner, a single parent (in many ways), and to function as head of the head of the household. However, as I look back, I’m beginning to see the ways I grew in strength, courage, and trust in God. 

I was in fight-or-flight mode, living from one tragedy to the next, trying to provide food, love, and care for my family. My brain was fixed on getting through each challenge without losing anyone in my care. Things like spring cleaning, paying bills, and even running errands seemed like too much extra effort, and I often let those things fall to the wayside in favor of trying to keep my sanity and still be available to my family. And yes, I often fell miserably short of my own expectations. 

My own expectations made me perceive myself as a failure. I wish I had made better decisions during those times, but I’m choosing to view myself as a protector, warrior, advocate, and human since I made many mistakes and hurt people I never wanted to hurt. 

As I unpack the boxes, I will write about them here. I will likely share things that are ugly and uncomfortable, but with the intention of letting others know they’re not alone when they’re going through the worst times in their lives. I will share my struggles, mistakes, and hope for the future.

For many reasons, it's taken me forever to finish this particular post, so I may just cut it off here. I hope you'll excuse the abrupt ending.

I'll leave you with a link to read more about survival mode.

https://acceleratedresolutiontherapy.com/are-you-in-survival-mode/