There are valid reasons why people catastrophize (to imagine the worst possible outcome of an action or event): Terrible things happen. Uncommon calamities occur, things that we never thought would happen to us. Common catastrophes occur, too, things that we know will happen, and yet all of our preconceptions do not provide adequate preparation.
Are common catastrophes really “catastrophes”? Like death and dying? Death by “catastrophic implosion” is a catastrophe by definition. What about migrants drowning at sea? People dying from heart disease? overdoses?
Do the reactions and opinions of other people determine whether something is a catastrophe? If you’re the only one who thinks it is a catastrophe, is it still a momentous tragic event?
To catastrophize is to have an active and creative mind, one that brims with possibilities. These options are unlikely to happen, but they could.
One function of catastrophization is to provide mental rehearsals. Practice gives us a sense of mastery: We thought about a Thing, we considered the consequences of that Thing, and now we have plans to avert disasters related to that Thing.
Doesn’t “Emergency Preparedness” sound better and induce less anxiety than “catastrophization”?
However, “catastrophization” often omits the “preparation” part of “emergency preparedness”: We get lost in loops of apocalyptic ideas. Paralysis (and perspiration) ensues.
More recently I’ve wondered if catastrophic thinking reflects a lack of self-confidence, or at least a fear that we are incapable of dealing with disasters. We are terrified that we will not survive.
It seems the most debilitating aspects of catastrophization do not always involve material things. We may fear the flames engulfing our home, but we fret more about the potential destruction of our pets and loved ones who live with us.
Material destruction is distressing, though annihilation of our identities is intolerable. Who am I if my children die? What does it mean if I’m the only person left who has these memories? What will happen to “me” if I can’t deal with this Thing?
Maybe this is a lesson that only comes from time and experience: We can survive more than we think we can. The world can shatter our hearts in unimaginable ways, but we persist. What was unimaginable becomes part of our personal history. We weren’t eradicated; we endured.
This is not to say that the experience was “fine” or that we are “fine”. The external and internal wreckage is real, but we are still here.
How do we persevere among the ruins, though? What do we do when catastrophic thoughts descend upon us, demolishing the tenuous safety and security we think we have now? What do you do when your thoughts take you to a world that doesn’t exist right now (and may never come into being)?
It sounds trite and overdone: Bring yourself back again and again to this world and yourself. What is actually happening right now? Where are you? What are you doing?
See the summer trees, their limbs full of luscious leaves. Hear the wind rustle the branches, a green applause filling the air. Feel your toes in your shoes, the way the small bones in your feet support all of your weight. Do you feel your tongue in your mouth?
Indeed, what is the texture of the pain in your lower back? Is it mostly sharp right now? Or a monotonous throb? Can you trace the direction of the sensation? How do you respond to it? How does it respond to you?
The sirens that wail: Can you hear how they change pitch? When does the “WOOOOoooo” finally disappear? Did you hear it dissolve, or did you only hear its absence a few minutes later?
What are the shapes of the letters in that text message? What punctuation is present? What are the colors in the emojis? What might happen if you took a full breath before sending a message? What message are you sending yourself with a short breath? A long one? A noisy one?
Life, in all its beauty and ugliness, continues to unfold whether or not you are giving it your full attention. You could live your life entirely in your thoughts, one catastrophe to the next. What might you miss in the world outside your head if you do that?
And have your catastrophic thoughts diverted any disasters? Thinking about all the things that could go wrong might help us feel like we have control over something, but do we really? Things will go wrong whether we think about them or not… and things will go well even when we think they won’t. Thoughts are magical, but magical thinking is ultimately a collection of ideas in our minds.
In catastrophization we have great confidence in our thoughts. When living in this world, let us have more confidence in ourselves. We can make it, even if we don’t believe it.
Maria Yang, MD 