Taming the doom squirrels*

*Your tortured metaphor may vary

I find myself writing these types of pieces periodically, which is an indicator of 1) its continued need or 2) I'm not practicing what I preach and probably should.

Typically I tend to write for those without lived experience to help them support those that do. This is not who I write for today. This is for fellow members of the Club We Didn't Ask to Join and is brought to you by our sponsor, the Doom Squirrel.

For those who prefer more practical tips feel free to skip to the heading of your choice.

I am very aware

Awareness weeks can be hugely draining for everyone within their scope. They can create a double edged sword of opportunity to raise awareness of our issues (and more importantly drive change) but can also present a huge trigger in terms of heavy exposure to harrowing stories that resonate with our own. Especially when all the awareness weeks stack together and you have the ugly business of bidding for space in an already filled calendar.

This can carry with it a weight of obligation, the sense that I have to be involved. As you would expect, the burden of these awareness weeks often falls to those already aware of the impact events like this have on our lives. There is always that nagging sense of if we don't do it, who will?

All of that plus the anniversary of our sons' deaths AND work AND parenting AND functioning creates the perfect conditions to summon my doom squirrels. These rodent like scurrying thoughts that nip at me throughout the day, demanding feeding and attention.

Why aren't you doing more? If you're not running an event, then you're letting the side down. If you are running an event, why can't you run a series of events? Where's your blog, huh? Why aren't you doing a TikTok and getting with the times? Who even does blogs anymore?!

Then the record skips to the start and we begin again.

So what to do?

I've tried taking time off but that did not work as planned. For me, work is a place where I can get things done and make progress. This becomes important when the other scale starts to tip with the weight of expectation and loss.

Making way through the fog

When it gets closer to these events and anniversary, my brain starts to feel like its filled with fog. It's hard to concentrate, doing simple things is much harder than normal.

The way I try and approach it is in the way you deal with normal fog. Slow down, take the time to orient myself and what's around me rather than rushing forward into the unknown. Look for the gaps and move slowly towards them or wait for it to clear.

Dealing with overwhelm

Once the fog clears, the sudden clarity can be overwhelming. There is always so much to do and part of the process is to understand that there's only so much I can do. Getting it all down and sorting out to prioritise what needs to be done and what is within my control is a big part of helping to self-regulate. Does it need to be done and does it need to be that does it?

Something is better than nothing

When the doom squirrels start to march around my head taking up valuable space with their incessant chittering, it feels all consuming. Making progress can be hard, so adjusting expectations is a way of getting the things I need to get done but being realistic about how much I can achieve during doom squirrel season.

The video from Struthless below really helped me with the process of identifying, categorising, and prioritising obligations. The key element here is around prioritising to find the least amount of obligations that need to be done to make the next day better and maintain momentum. As he says, the aim here is to maintain momentum while removing the guilt of an overfilled to-do list and the realities of life with its reactive days and hard days.

Call to (in)action

It's remembering that my mindset to the loss work is heavily influenced by when I started and the level of support, coverage, and awareness at that time.

I don't have to do it all, it's not all on me, and it never has been. This is something I have been doing to myself. There are plenty of better placed people to do this and it's a collaborative effort. There is no value in duplicating effort. Sometimes the best thing to do is to boost those voices rather than feeling I have to add mine.

Working in a space so intimately linked to something so harrowing means that it's not sustainable to be switched on to all of the latest developments, debates, and coverage all the time. There was a reason I didn't make this my day job. It's the reason that I make it clear to any volunteers in our staff networks that there is no obligation to participate if it is no longer helpful to do so. Whether I can take my own advice on that is a different matter...

It's all signs

There is a theme throughout all of this, linking to a common thread throughout my work in this space. Grief isn't a problem to be solved. This fog, the overwhelm, the march of my little rodent metaphors and the steps I've outlined above to manage them are at their heart all telling me the same thing.

Slow down.

Allowing space for reflection and memory

If I'm feeling like this, I need to slow down, I need to reflect and ultimately remember. To protect myself in raising these topics in the workplace for my own sanity I have put myself one step removed to keep it business focused while balancing that with compassion and empathy.

Coming up to an anniversary like this, I can't be a step removed. Amongst all the work for to raise awareness and help staff understand how to better support those affected by pregnancy and baby loss, it's my sons' anniversary. It's their time and I need to spend it with them in thoughts, stories, memories, and celebrating with their living siblings.