Storm coverage rains down gloom
By Beth Teitell
Wednesday, January 4, 2006
I’m no shrink, but after spending the better part of Monday seriously stressing about a predicted snowstorm - What if they close the schools? What if I run out of milk? What if I spin out while driving? What if I’m not sure what if? - I’ve diagnosed myself with a new disease: Post Stormcast Stress Disorder, a psychosis brought on by listening to too many weather reports.
Never mind that the storm did not materialize as threatened (or that lining up child care was no problem, the refrigerator was already well-stocked, or that I hardly drive anywhere anyway) the damage had already been done - in my mind, that is.
”You’ve got to start living more in the moment,” a friend suggested. ”I do,” I protested, ”it’s just the wrong moment.” Right now, for example, instead of enjoying Tuesday’s relatively easy weather, I’m worrying about the storm that’s rumored for later this week - what if they close the schools, etc. And, although I shouldn’t even admit this, I’m also concerned about Tropical Storm Zeta, which at press time was nearing hurricane force in the Atlantic.
A fact I learned from several news reports. In other words: My disease is not my fault. It’s the media’s. At a time when the weather plays a fairly small role in our lives (not counting major disasters), we hear more about it than ever. No offense to California, but does its rain really need to be the lead story on this coast?
Although PSSD disappears once stressors (such as accuweather.com or Mike Wankum) are eliminated from the environment, a person in its grip feels powerless. Yesterday, even though it was hardly raining when I left my home, I felt the need to dress for an arctic expedition. ”You look like you’re ready,” an acquaintance smirked at the T stop, taking in my enormous military-style poncho and heavy boots. Ready for what, he didn’t say.
When I got to work, worried that I was alone in my craziness, I asked a colleague with a young child if she’d been worried about a snow day, too. ”Not at all,” she reported. I was starting to envy her mentally healthy attitude, until she finished her thought. ”My daughter was sick on Sunday,” she said, ”so I spent yesterday panicking that I’d catch what she had.”
”You need to live more in the moment,” I said as I laced up my boots and donned my layers for the trip home.
