The Long View

Morning, everybody!

As I type this, it is about two months from March 12, or as my wife and I have come to call it, the “before times.” I refer specifically to March 12, because in my mind, that’s the day Corona snapped away from an abstract problem to “Oh, hell, this is bad.” March 12 is the day that my local school district canceled classes after a potential COVID exposure with a teacher. It’s the day my region saw it’s first positive case. It’s the day local private schools began to close. It’s the day I closed my legislative offices. It’s also around the day that Tom Hanks announced he was positive and sports games started getting canceled. That, in my mind, is when everything started to change and become much more real.

So, what’s happened during those two months? Uhh…you know what, never mind. Let’s just not do that. You’ve lived it with me. You know how bad this is.

I’m writing this entry today with a simple goal: To urge you to change your perspective and to take the long view.

In those two months, tens of millions became unemployed. Businesses have collapsed. Large sectors of the economy have been decimated. Millions have been infected. Most of us know someone who was. Many of us lost family members or friends. This has been a nightmare and one that will change the world.

It will pass. All pandemics pass. Everything returns. Not to “normal,” but yes, everything returns.

So, here’s my plea in today’s entry: As best as you can, take the long view.

Whatever you have done in your life, however you have lived, you have unquestionably struggled. You have endured pain you thought would break you, lost people you thought you could never live without. You have undergone trauma, experienced things that were meant to bury you. However much pain you are in, however terrible things seem and whatever darkness you are currently surrounded by, please remember this:

You. Have. Survived.

In moments like this, it can be easy to lose perspective. It can be easy to forget that you have endured periods of your life that were so filled with darkness you never thought you’d recover. Please remember those moments at times like this. Please remember that you have gotten through and that you will again and again.

It’s been going on so long it can be easy to remember, but please: This pandemic will end. All pandemics do. This moment will pass. You will hug your family members again. You will go back to work. This moment will fade into your personal history. It will not be forever.

As best as you are capable during a pandemic, take the long view. Remember that time will ease this.

 

The Importance of Routine – Especially Now

My buddies in Harrisburg constantly make fun of me.

There are many reasons for this: My obvious good looks, my undeniable charm and my searing insight into local politics…okay none of those are true, but this is a tough time, let me pretend, okay?

No, there’s actually one reason in particular that they make fun of me that I wanted to talk about today, and I wanted to touch on it to discuss why it’s even more important, particularly now. My friends in Harrisburg make fun of me because I am an old man. I go to bed early. I HATE being out late. If we’re at a dinner or something, and it goes later than 8pm, I’m cranky.

Why? I have a routine. I like to be back in my hotel room by 8pm or so. I spend the time getting myself set up for the next day. I iron my shirt, load my gym bag. Then I spend an hour or so putzing around on the computer or reading, finishing up Emails. Around 10pm, I take a shower. By 1030, if not earlier, I like to be in bed.

My alarm is set for like 530am the next morning. I wake up, stumble around my hotel, climb into my car and head to the gym in the Capitol building. I work out, starting around 615 or so. Done by 715, shower and dressed by 745, grab breakfast and start my day.

Okay. Why the hell do you care about my evening and morning routine?

I mention it to make a point. I hate being away from my home and my family. Absolutely, positively hate it. That being said, when it comes to Harrisburg, more often than not, I’m in a hotel room at the end of the day. I’m about 90 minutes from home, so if we have a late-night or early morning, its just not worth getting in my car and going home.

So, for a guy with anxiety and depression issues, spending a lot of time away from home and the family that I love can be a challenge, and yes, it can be anxiety-producing. I’m probably in a hotel 50-70 nights a year (well, that will change this year for sure, but that’s another story).

One of the ways I have found to cope with it? I have a routine. And I mean a SET ROUTINE that I absolutely despise breaking and do not do so under virtually any circumstances. This routine absolutely, positively helps keep me grounded and focused. It is unquestionably a way to fight off my anxiety. It also has an added benefit: It keeps me prepared and set for the day in Harrisburg – days which are, incidentally, insanely busy. I frequently liken session days to bouncing around like a pinball.

Anyway, this entry is Corona related. How and why? Well, we’ve been indoors for a month now, and for many of us, we probably still have some time to go. If you are one of the lucky ones who is healthy and well, and able to stay in your home, your normal routine has probably been shot to hell. You’re now working from home, doing things you never thought possible from the comfort of your living room, trying to manage your kids’ education, worry about family and friends, etc.

There is a reason we all have routines. They are comforting and save your body invaluable decision-making energy. I get it – quarantine means we can back off of the things that keep us tied to the normal world, right? Sure, if that’s what you want. But understand that there is going to be quite a bit of anxiety associated with that.

The best thing I can advise? Find a routine, and stick to it. Develop the discipline to find things that keep you healthy and well. Set an alarm and get up at the same time. Dedicate X hours a day to doing Y. Go to bed at the same time. If you are working from home, develop a habit that signifies you’re done with work (change out of jeans and into sweatpants, go for a walk, whatever).

Routines help. And they help even more now at moments where we are cut off from so much that we know and love. Find a routine for yourself, and stick with it. Even now. Especially now.

What Do You Look Forward To?

Like everyone, the Schlossberg family has just had a grand ole time with adjusting to quarantine life. I’ve been legislating from my office, voting on bills from my bedroom, and trying to help desperate individuals try to access government benefits like unemployment. Brenna is trying to adjust to online teaching and constantly worries about her students or whether or not they are safe, eating well and being cared for. The kids are doing better than us, mostly, but Lord knows they miss their friends and their school lives. I’m just grateful they aren’t older and haven’t quite lost the idea that this is just an adventure with the family.

Life is hard. It’s hard for all of us, and you don’t need me to tell you that. And let me acknowledge again, I have it a hell of a lot better than many. Brenna, the kids and I are safe and healthy. We have food. We have shelter and we face no immediate economic thread as a result of this. There are so many people in worse shape than us. I don’t say that to devalue our pain or that of others, but to acknowledge that we have good fortune that others don’t.

But, I want to take a second to share a piece of advice that I have found incredibly useful as the days drag on, and this goes for everyone, no matter what your circumstances or levels of comfort are.

Every day, when the kids go to bed, I have a huge piece of cheesecake. I mean, we’re talking a piece of cheesecake the size of my head. It’s cherry cheesecake and from the Amish Bakery at the Allentown Farmer’s Market. Yes, I’d like several pieces, right now. Cheesecake and a big glass of milk.

Why am I writing about this on a blog about mental health?

I didn’t mean to do it, but at some point, I realized that the cheesecake became something I’d look forward to towards the end of the day. A goal. A point of relaxation. Like many of you, the lines between my work and professional life have always been relatively blurred, but even more so now that my home is also my office. The cheesecake was the ultimate sign of relaxation for me. It became something I’d look forward to. A nightly ritual I could enjoy that marked the end of the day.

At moments I was stressed, anxious or tired, I’d say to myself, “Just keep going. There’s cheesecake at the end of the day.”

This is probably useful for more than just a pandemic, but I have absolutely found that setting a ritual, adhering to that ritual, and enjoying that ritual can be very useful during the more stressful moments of a day. It gives me something to strive to – a little treat. It doesn’t have to be much. It doesn’t have to be cheesecake. But I have absolutely found that giving myself a pleasant reward at the end of a stressful day can make a world of difference.

So, that’s my advice to you. Set a goal. Stick to it. And find what works for you.

Have a wonderful day, everyone. Take care of yourselves and each other!

Remember this is a special moment – and go easy on yourself

Of all the things I’ve said since this stupid thing began – and I’ve said a lot – this is the one that stays with me. It’s something I said to my kids and then got quoted by a reporter. It occurred in the one time I’ve been to Harrisburg since the pandemic began, and that was for changing the House rules to allow for remote voting.

In the article, I was voting from my office and being interviewed by a reporter. I was just musing over the incredible strangeness of the entire situation, and I said:

This is so bizzare. I went for a walk with my kids the other day and I said, ‘I want you kids to remember this because I know it’s strange and scary. But one, we’re going to get through it, and two, your kids and grandkids will ask you what was it like to live through the coronavirus pandemic.’

I had said it to my kids the day before and I meant every word. I was trying to make sure my kids – 8 and 7 – understood the incredible uniqueness of the situation. None of us have ever lived through anything like this before. When we saw a deadly plague in some fiction book, it was quick and brutal. Not…locked in your house.

But, as has been noted by many people smarter than me, this time period is incredibly frightening. Even for those of us who are lucky enough to still be employed, it is stressful and anxiety-inducing. And it’s causing incredible stress and feelings of inadequacy. For example. Common thoughts and fears:

  • I’m stuck in my house – why am feeling so much pressure?
  • How am I going to educate my kids and do my job?
  • What happens if I get sick?
  • I can’t adjust to working this way!

An example? My poor wife (I am sharing this with her permission). She has been very (and understandably) stressed about teaching. She teaches in my local school district and switching the way you teach – in a time-pressure way, when you haven’t been trained until a few weeks ago – is awful. She is nervous about doing a good job and reaching her students appropriately.

I have said to her the same thing I’ll now say to all of you: You do the best you can. I have lost tons of sleep worrying about family, friends, and constituents. We all have. I think the best thing we can do is acknowledge that this is a special moment. Are our kids going to be okay? Yeah, most likely, they will. Will they be behind in school? I mean, compared to where they would have been in a world where some guy didn’t interact with a bat or something, yes. But compared to other kids? Probably not! And even if they are: That’s okay!

People. This is a literal plague. It is a life-taking, economy-wrecking, socially-life-destroying plague. You don’t have to write the next great American novel. You don’t have to start a new instrument, clean your house from top to bottom or personally reshingle your roof. You can just get through it, and that’s more than enough.

Acknowledge that this is a specially painful moment. And don’t judge yourself too harshly.