The freeze response
People have commented on how still I can be when the crazy is flying. And there is a lot of crazy flying around as I write this.
My response to forces larger and stronger than I am was conditioned growing up in the ’70s with a father far away in a war and a mother alone with two small girls and too many demons of mental illness. I was terrified a lot; I was afraid my mother would hurt us more, that she would leave, that my dad wouldn’t come home, that this was my fault. As a child, I didn’t have a vote or money or a clue about options outside our house. I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t fight, I couldn’t reach out, I couldn’t trust. I froze — waiting for this round of crazy to go by.
I’m seeing this response in myself and others in our adult situation of quarantine and lockdown. This response is not necessarily our choice, but some of us were doing this before the pandemic. In the face of global threats, we can’t leave (there’s no Planet B), we can’t fight (militaries and para-militaries are only getting bigger), we’re disconnected to the point that loneliness has become another deadly pandemic, and we don’t trust ourselves or anyone else. So many of us — with varying palettes of privilege and risk — are frozen, waiting for this wave of crazy to go by.
Frozen in fear is a real response that buys us time. We wait for the threat or danger to pass by or change. We…
