Distracting Myself to Despair

Distraction. A welcomed friend in times of stress. A tool that helps when trying not to overthink certain fears, anxieties or health problems. A coping mechanism that allows us to stop thinking for a few moments and focus on something else. It's something I am certainly guilty of (over)using at times. But is it a good thing? A visit to an Onsen provided a place with no distractions. A sort of mental prison where it was just me and my thoughts. But as I sat there, alone with my thoughts and with no possible distractions, it became a haven. A sanctuary which allowed me to realize that distraction may be useful, but it can also be limiting. Let me explain what I mean a little further.

Diagnosis & Distraction

When I first received the news of my mother’s cancer, distraction became my go to solution. A way to not think about the terrifying outcomes of a stage-3 bladder cancer diagnosis. A means of burying the bad news in a place so deep that I didn’t have to think about the what ifs. At first, distracting myself was easy. I’d spend hours cooking elaborate, time-consuming recipes. I’d visit museums, galleries, and cinemas to be distracted by what was on offer. I’d cycle long distances visiting cities I’d never been to. I would try just about anything to not think about the worst case scenarios. Anything that would make the unrelenting voice in my head stop screaming about what could happen.

Time alone with my thoughts

A visit to an Onsen Spa gave me the experience I had so desperately needed. It was the first time I was truly alone with my thoughts. There were no distractions here, just the gentle sound of water flowing and a tangible aura of calm and stillness. I was so used to numbing the voice inside my head that when I was in this place of calm, I felt incredibly uneasy. Yet, in these still, silent spa surroundings, I came to the realization that distraction, as useful as it can be in certain situations, is also limiting. It was unhealthy to try to continuously subdue my thoughts, concerns and worries. I needed to deal with them, unpack them, and understand them. And I couldn’t do that by distraction alone.

Distraction is the opposite of mindfulness. Yet, I feel that they’re two sides of the same coin. They are both methods to cope with the thoughts that are troubling us. But each method has its pros and cons. Distraction provided only temporary relief. Mindfully analyzing my deep fears provided permanent relief through rationalization. Being alone with my thoughts and taking the time to process each fear and worry allowed an understanding of what was really troubling me. It also helped to get a grip on the repetitive and uncontrollable jack-in-the-box sensation–when a worry or emotion I t/ried to bury by distraction pops to the surface without warning.

More information, more worries

The worries and fears I had for my mother’s health was like a many-headed hydra. Each time I felt I had come to terms with a particular concern, more appeared in its place. This is annoying but also logical. During a patient’s cancer journey, new information, treatments, surgeries and recovery plans all bring their own risks and possible complications. These are the things that can take root and grow into uncontrollable thoughts. But over time, and in combination with mindful rationalization of the voice inside my head, I became more level-headed and happier.

The worries I had still existed. Yet, because I had taken the time to mindfully contemplate and unpack them, they were no longer the pervasive and invasive screaming voice I tried to mentally pack away. Time with one’s thoughts can be daunting, especially as a patient or caregiver. But I truly believe that taking the time to really analyze the worries and fears that keep bubbling to the surface is much healthier than trying to bury them with distractions.