It was nothing but one "perfect storm" after another. The storms waited until after dark for the last two days to let their full force be known. Walls of dark clouds, deafening thunder, bolts of lightning connecting the clouds to the ground, and rain coming down as much as what falls over a waterfall. The conditions were perfect to produce tornadic activity.
I don't do so well in storms, normal storms, to begin with. I jump out of my skin at every loud noise as it is, so thunder is particularly tough to deal with. There's no visual prep, no way to know it's coming to brace myself. Oh sure, watch for the flash and wait for the boom. That's a normal storm. It wasn't possible to do that last night or the night before. The flashes and the booms were constant. I was a brittle bundle of nerves.
I never lost power, so I sat here at the computer and took to typing updates into Facebook what the radio said was going on. Tornado warnings, severe thunderstorm warnings, and hours of watches after that. Who'd of thunk that live reporting would be so therapeutic?
It was. Very much so. After seeing this rainbow this morning, I thought about it. The rainbow seemed to say to me, "There's hope for you after all. Now go find it." So, I thought hard.
When I am down, depressed, the thing that will bring me out of it is helping someone else. The same works when I am fearful or anxious.
(Just don't expect me to help you out if you have a bee chasing you. You are on your own!)
It's something I've known all along. When I'm focused on someone else, that gives me the distance I need to get a better perspective on whatever it is that I'm worried about, upset over, or just plain depressed. In another way, if I'm not pondering my own ills, they are no longer the mountains I've made them into, and the anthills become easier to deal with.
It surprised me to find that the same worked for my fear and anxiety in the horrible storms. Just typing away on Facebook while listening hard to the meteorologists did the trick.
It's a good way to crawl out from under the weather. Just remind me of this the next time it storms, OK? Don't forget now. I'm counting on you. Heh.