Shock Happens

One of my co-workers, Hunter had been asking me to be a guest on the podcast. 

I told him that I did not have the technical set up to do an interview format, but if I get there, he would be one.

I was also gratified that he had told others about this podcast.

Tonight, I am in some shock because I learned that Hunter was killed in a car accident two nights ago leaving work.  He had worked a 12-hour shift, he fell asleep while driving.

Shock . . .it is the first stage of grief.

Shock is a sucky state to be in. Your world is not the same anymore. 

How severe your shock is…depends on what happened and who died.

Many of us can agree on sharing shocking experiences. Many of us felt shock when Russia invaded Ukraine . . . when Hamas killed 10-thousand Israelis . . . and if you are now older . . . the September 11, 2001 attacks that we still refer to as nine-eleven.

When we are in shock, the world looks and feels different.  The sky looks different and sounds are not the same. Our taste is thrown off.  

Personal note, when my father died nearly nine years ago, the shock was such that it felt like I was body-slammed. I slept poorly, was stiff, and felt like my shoes were concrete.  Although, I was as bad as it could have been when I remembered the worst case.

I have had many experiences of shock in my life.  I have also seen others in shock.

The worst I have seen was a guy who had discovered his brother after his brother committed suicide with a gun. He was a zombie. 

You cannot predict shock, however, there are more and more opportunities to be shocked the longer you live and the more you look at the various social media platforms, and the more radio and tv put on graphic details, sounds, images, and videos.  

We are not necessarily more enlightened or toughened experiencing the increase in shocking, graphic materials.  We are being more burned out and not able to do as much.   Having the information superhighway is not always a good thing when the material is shocking.

I have communicated with a few people about Hunter tonight.  The shock is impairing the ability to do things.  One person had to stop work because they could not function.  Another may take tomorrow off.

How do we handle shock?   I have come up with four strategies.

The first step is to be mindful if possible.  We may have to tell ourselves repeatedly—this is shock. By seeking to be mindful that we are in shock, we reduce the likelihood we get absorbed.   

Second, give ourselves permission to slow down.  Shock takes away energy and capability to do our regular tasks and routines. We are not as capable to work at our usual pace. We also may be more reactive because the shock diminishes our capability to interact with the environment.

Third, self-care.  Distractions and healthy comforts like a Ma tcha Latte can help soothe and rejuvenate.

Fourth, talk to someone. Tell them you are in shock and why you are in shock.  We need people and attention from people— they are emotional needs, and we may need a little more when we are in shock. 

The good news is that shock does not last forever.  The guy I mentioned who was a zombie . . . a week or two later and he had recovered to be a normal-looking person who was no longer looked like a zombie. 

Even at the end of this discussion, things do not feel the same.  Hunter is gone.  I miss him and will miss him.  However, I expect to go to work tomorrow and expect to comfort my coworkers.  Not than I am going to be stronger than them, but I am going to listen and be still and let my coworkers have their feelings amidst their shock.  We will get through this and we will move on in our work and lives.

If you are experiencing thoughts of wanting to go to sleep and not wake up, thoughts of wanting to die, or even thoughts of wanting to kill yourself, I encourage you t