Elayne Savage's Communication Tips

Bombarded by Fear and Anxiety - How to Cope

By Elayne Savage, PhD

When politicians and the media play the fear card, invoking non-stop future images of terror and suspicion, for many of us the reaction is powerful.

Some of our most profound fears are triggered when the alarm is sounded by the people we elected to be stewards of our well-being.

One definition of terror is: “acts which are purposefully designed to scare people and make them fearful.”

A definition of terrorism is: "the use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes."

It seems like it is often the politicians themselves who are inflaming suspicions, issuing exaggerated warnings  and spreading fear.

The Politics of Fear erupts, playing to our anxieties. This leads to a Culture of Fear, with the potential of permeating and fraying the fabric of our country,

"What's Going to Happen to Me?"

When we’re being inundated with fear, especially by someone in authority it often calls up experiences and memories from the past. Fears we thought we’d dealt with are again resurfacing. These unwelcome visitors center around Fear of the Unknown and it’s cousin Imagining the Worst.

If these fears are rooted in childhood experiences, a child-like fright takes over, and a small voice asks, "WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME?"

Fear in the present is heightened by our experiences of fears in the past. This is especially true if our childhood was encumbered with anxieties, worries and dreads.

A child’s experience of fear is from the child's perspective. Therefore it’s differently reasoned than an adult's experience would be. Fear and anxiety are constant companions to these children. They live on edge, just waiting for the trauma to come again. It’s not a matter of if it comes, but when it comes. So they’re always holding their breath, waiting.

This ever-present anxiety becomes part of their identity and follows them into adult relationships, both work and personal.

The child is branded by these traumas. This imprint displaces trust that the world is a safe place. This feeling of insecurity follows the child into adulthood.

Because occurrences of trauma are cumulative, years later we may find ourselves reliving the same level of distress when we come face to face with new fear-producing situations. Sometimes, it feels like fear of a seven year old, not the fear of an adult.

Research shows stress hormone levels are affected by trauma and by the anxiety it produces. We know that the long-term affect of these increased levels of cortisol and spurts of adrenaline result in adult anxiety and depression, leading to even more intense feelings of helplessness and overwhelm.

Anxiety is Contagious

One of the most powerful things about anxiety is: It’s contagious. One person will catch it from another.  Even as children we absorbed our parents’ anxiety. Because we couldn’t put words to it to describe our feelings, we "acted it out" as a way of releasing the tension it caused.

“As adults, we act out feelings if we can’t talk them out. It’s one way of relieving the anxiety. Some of us starting fights, antagonize, fly into rages, or slam doors. Others excessively spend, gamble, engage in extramarital affairs or abuse of substances such as tobacco, alcohol, drugs, and food. But acting out is not always active. It can be passive as well, such as foot-dragging, “yes, butting,” sulking, and giving the silent treatment.

With all the fear-instilling talk of terror these days, many of you may be finding new fears piling up on old fears and anxieties.

However, you can find ways to put childhood memories in perspective so they won’t take over.  You no longer have to feel the seven-year-old’s fear. A choice does exist for you. You can be more in control of your feelings, instead of allowing your feelings to be in control of you.

A good goal is to understand that here is no magic switch that will totally turn off these old responses. Like the trick birthday candles that flare up after you think you’ve blown them out. And then flare up again.  They will always be with you, however, you can be in more control of them.

Tips for Coping with Fear

– Put a name to your worst fears. Say it out loud.

– Walk alongside yourself. Gain some distance by separating the “now” of the present moment from the “ten” of unpleasant early experiences.

This frees you up from overwhelming feelings.

This objectivity allows you to make choices about how you react.

– Know that your partner, friends or colleagues may deal with fear differently than you. Don’t compare.

– Give yourself permission to be afraid, yet recognize it’s OK not to bite the fear bait that gets thrown out.

–Talk it out. Hearing yourself say what you most fear works wonders.

© Elayne Savage , PhD

Parts of this blog entry are excerpted from an article I published in 2006 and from blog posts in 2009.

Elayne Savage, PhD, is called ‘The Queen of Rejection’ for a reason – she’s been taking things personally much of her life. She is a practicing psychotherapist, relationship and workplace coach and author of Breathing Room-Creating Space to Be a Couple and Don’t Take It Personally! The Art of Dealing with Rejection. You’ll find lots of communication tips at TipsFromTheQueenofRejection.com

 

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Reflections on Growing Up In the Shadow of the Navy Yard

By Elayne Savage, PhD

I am deeply saddened and affected personally by the senseless loss of life and injuries at the Washington D.C. Navy Yard. My heart goes out to all the families and friends and residents of the community. 

I spent much of my early growing up years in the shadow of the Navy Yard. My part-time home was my grandmother's corner market at 7th and L Streets. 

 As you might guess the many repeated scenes of the surrounding neighborhood have brought back vivid memories. There was even footage of an ambulance passing the market that used to be my grandmother's. 

 I want to share with you something I have never published before – about the market, my grandmother, and memories of the many hours my brother Lee, my cousins and I spent on the corner of 7th and L Streets, SE, in DC.

The Trading Post Lady of 7^th and L

I think of my grandma as the Trading Post Lady of 7th and L Streets – a couple of blocks from the Navy Yard in DC.

 I think of myself as growing up in two neighborhoods. On weekdays I was a white kid in brick row house in NE. Yep, it was mostly white and Jewish. On weekends, I was a white kid in a mostly black neighborhood in SE

I remember my NE neighborhood being abuzz when actress/singer Pearl Bailey bought a house a few blocks away from my row house. Walking to school I'd peer in the windows to try to catch a glimpse of her. Never did though, so maybe it was only a rumor.

My Other Neighborhood

I spent Fridays and Saturdays in my other neighborhood. My grandmother lived above her corner grocery store at 7^th and L Streets, SE. Directly across from the back of the Navy Yard Streetcar Barn. Built in the late 1800's, the building was about a full city block. The street cars entered on M street, were serviced or repaired and exited on L street. They were a daily part of our experience at the market.

Raskin's grocery market, 7th and L Streets SE, DC

My dad and uncle worked in the store with Grandma so my cousins and my brother Lee and I spent lots of time there. Mostly hanging around the candy counter.

 A few officers from the DC Metro Police would stop in the store for an ice cold five-cent Coke and a kosher dill from the pickle barrel. Sometimes they would drive Lee around the block in a 'paddy wagon' with the siren on. Lee loved it.

Whenever I see the Marine Band on TV, my memory does a back flip to 1950. Our dad would take us to watch the band practice in front of the Marine Barracks, just a few blocks from the store.

 When I wasn't eating up the candy profits, I was playing hopscotch on chalked off squares and skipping rope with kids on the block. In both of my neighborhoods, black and white, the games we played and friendships we made were pretty much the same.

Playing up the street from Raskin's Market

 

Friday Night Dinners – Eating in Two Shifts

Every Friday afternoon we'd travel across town to Grandma's house for Shabbat dinner. We entered her first floor kitchen to the delicious smells of matzoh ball soup, brisket, roast chicken and just-baked kugel. If we all showed up, we totaled 15. Too many for one table, so we ate in two shifts.

About the time the second shift was finishing up, there'd usually be loud pounding on Grandma’s front door. "Miz Raskin, Miz Raskin, call the police. There's been a stabbing."

For years I would wonder, "Why do they always seek out my grandma?" Finally I figured it out. She had the only telephone in the neighborhood!

And where was my grandfather? He died long before I was born. Everyone told some pretty weird stories about him though. My favorite is about him bootlegging whiskey to some Congress folk during prohibition. It ended when someone tipped off the revenuers. When they arrived they found him hiding under the coal pile in the yard. But maybe it was just a story.

So, with the help of two of her sons, Mike and Henry, Grandma continued to live upstairs and run the grocery business. She was one tough and determined lady even though she only stood 4'9''.

Trading Post and Listening Post

I think of my grandma as 'The Trading Post Lady' of 7^th and L.

The market was also a 'Listening Post.' Neighbors could catch up on the happenings and gossip. But if there was trouble on the street, someone would send a runner to the store. Day or night.

I felt pretty safe on the sidewalks at 7^th and L. Grandma's neighbors looked after us kids because she and her sons took care of them – making sure no one went hungry during the depression. And they extended credit if someone fell on hard times.

Russian immigrant Sarah Raskin and her 7^th and L Market were woven into the fabric of the neighborhood. There was mutual respect and regard.

Sure, there was the occasional shoplifting of a can of pork and beans. But get this: no one ever tried to rob the store. Not ever.

I moved away from DC when I was nine. Over the years I guess I assumed the store had been torn down as the neighborhood was built up grew older.  Imagine my surprise to learn that while ninety percent of the neighborhood had been completely rebuilt, the original two story building is still standing on the corner of 7^th and L, surrounded by the renaissance of SE Washington, including the Nationals' ball park. 

The old Streetcar Barn is now painted bright blue and called ‘Blue Castle.’ Plans are underway for condo development.

 Lee and I visited the market a few years ago. It looks pretty much the same. I was amazed at how tiny it seems now! And there's a bullet-proof check cashing booth off the doorway, sort of where I remember the candy counter used to be. I guess times have changed.

Recent photo by Lenny Raskin and Rick Raskin

These days the market is owned by a recently immigrated Korean family. But they don't live upstairs. At first, they didn’t believe us when we told about how much time we used to spend in the store. Luckily Lee thought to bring along some photos from the old days. 

I wouldn’t trade those memories of growing up for anything. I’m grateful for the life-long lessons we learned on those streets: consideration, acceptance, and respect.

On 7^th and L we were all just kids growing up together – peacefully in the shadow of the D.C. Navy Yard.

©  Elayne Savage, PhD