Wellness Exchange: Health Discussions
Conquering Death Anxiety: A Writer's Unexpected Journey to Peace
(upbeat music) - Welcome to "Listen To." This is Ted. The news was published on Sunday, October 13th. Our guests today are Eric and Kate. We're discussing an unusual approach to coping with death anxiety. Let's start with the author's experience during the pandemic. Eric, what are your thoughts on her reaction? - Well, Ted, I find the author's fixation on hoarding chicken breasts absolutely fascinating. It's like a psychological case study in action. You've gotta imagine her freezer just bursting at the seams with poultry, but jokes aside, it's actually a pretty primal instinct. When we're faced with a big, scary threat like a pandemic, our caveman brains kick in and say, "Stock up on resources." It's like we're preparing for a long winter, even if that winter is metaphorical. - Oh, come on. You can't seriously be defending this behavior. Hoarding food isn't a healthy way to deal with anxiety. - Hold on, Kate. I'm not saying it's ideal, but it's certainly understandable. Many people engaged in similar behaviors during the pandemic. It provided a sense. - A sense of what? False security. That's not helpful. This woman clearly needed professional help, not a freezer for-- - I see your point, Kate, but let's not be too quick to pathologize a normal stress response. Sure, it might not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but it's far from the worst. At least she wasn't turning to alcohol or other destructive behaviors. And let's be real, who among us didn't have a moment of panic buying during those early pandemic days? - Fine. Maybe I went a little overboard on the toilet paper, but bursting into tears every time she used the chicken? That's clearly maladaptive behavior. It's not just about stockpiling resources. It's about an unhealthy emotional attachment to those resources. - Interesting points, both of you. Kate, what do you make of the author's obsession with cooking dinner as a way to cope with her mother-in-law's declining health? - It's just another unhealthy fixation, if you ask me. She's avoiding dealing with her emotions by immersing herself in mundane tasks. Instead of facing the reality of her mother-in-law's condition, she's hiding behind a pile of pots and pans. It's classic avoidance behavior, and it's not doing her any favors in the long run. - I have to disagree with you there, Kate. Cooking can be incredibly therapeutic. It's a productive way to channel anxiety and provide comfort for her family during a difficult time. - But she says her full day revolved around it. That's not healthy or productive. It's obsessive behavior that's preventing her from dealing with the real-- - I hear you, Kate, but consider this. It's better than many alternative coping mechanisms. At least she was caring for her family and herself. Cooking provides nourishment both physical and emotional. It's a tangible way to show love and support when words fail us, and let's not forget, focusing on daily tasks can help us stay grounded when everything else feels chaotic. - You both make compelling arguments. Let's shift gears a bit and discuss the concept of "Memento Mori." Eric, can you explain this term and its significance? - Absolutely, Ted. Memento Mori is Latin for "Remember You Will Die." It's a philosophical and artistic tradition that's been around for centuries, reminding people of their mortality. - Now, before you think it's all doom and gloom, the purpose is actually quite profound. It's about encouraging people to live meaningful lives, to make the most of the time they have. You see it pop up in art, literature, and even in some religious practices. - That sounds incredibly morbid and depressing. Why would anyone want to constantly think about death? It's like inviting anxiety into your life. People should focus on living. - But Kate, that's exactly the point. It's not about dwelling on death. It's about appreciating life. When we acknowledge our mortality, it can lead to greater mindfulness and more purposeful living. - I think it would just make people anxious and depressed. Not everyone can handle that kind of constant reminder. It's irresponsible to suggest this as a coping mechanism for the general-- - Let's explore a historical parallel to the author's experience. The 1918 Spanish flu pandemic saw similar widespread anxiety about death. Eric, can you elaborate on this? - Certainly, Ted. The 1918 Spanish flu pandemic was a devastating global event that killed an estimated 50 million people worldwide. That's more than double the number of combat deaths in World War I to put it in perspective. Like COVID-19, it caused widespread fear and disruption to daily life. People were suddenly confronted with their own mortality in a very immediate way, much like our author experience during the recent pandemic. - That's ancient history. How is it relevant to today's situation? We've made so much progress in medicine and public health since then. - But Kate, it's not-- - It's highly relevant. Both pandemics led to similar societal reactions, fear, social distancing, and a heightened awareness of mortality. The emotional and psychological impacts are strikingly similar, regardless of medical advancements, people in 1918. - But we have much better medical knowledge and technology now. It's not comparable. We're much better equipped to handle pandemics today. While it's true that our medical capabilities have improved dramatically, the human emotional response to widespread death and uncertainty remains remarkably consistent. In both pandemics, people grappled with fear, isolation, and a sudden awareness of their own fragility. It's a testament to the universal nature of our relationship with mortality. - Interesting. Kate, how do you think people coped with death anxiety during the 1918 pandemic compared to now? - They probably just got on with their lives. People were tougher back then. They didn't have time for all this naval gazing and obsessing over death. They had to work hard just to survive, so they couldn't afford to sit around worrying about mortality all day. - Actually, Kate, many coping mechanisms were remarkably similar to what we see today. People sought comfort in religion, community, and daily routines, just like the author did with her cooking obsession. There are accounts of people-- - That's pure speculation. - We can't possibly know how people really felt back then. It's not like they had Instagram to document their everything. - I understand your skepticism, Kate, but we actually have extensive historical records and personal accounts that provide insight into their experiences and coping mechanisms. Diaries, letters, and newspaper articles from the time paint a vivid picture of people's emotional states, many turned to prayer, others found solace in helping their neighbors, and some like our author, focused intensely on daily tasks to maintain a sense of normalcy. - Let's talk about the author's method of writing obituaries for fictional people. Eric, what's your take on this approach? - I think it's a brilliant and creative way to confront mortality Ted. By writing about imaginary lives and deaths, she's processing her own fears in a controlled environment. It's like she's created a sandbox where she can safely explore these complex emotions without the immediate pain of real loss. This method allows her to engage with the concept of death repeatedly, which can help desensitize her to the fear over time. - It seems like a complete waste of time to me. How does writing fake obituaries help anyone? It's not real grief, it's not real loss. - But Kate, it's a form of exposure therapy. By repeatedly engaging with the concept of death, she's desensitizing herself to the fear. It's similar to how people with phobias might gradually expose themselves to what scares them. - But it's all made up. It's not real exposure to death. How can you compare writing fiction to actually dealing with-- - The emotional engagement is very real, even if the subjects are fictional. It's a safe way to explore difficult emotions without the overwhelming pain of actual loss. Think of it like a flight simulator for pilots. They're not actually flying a plane, but the experience helps them prepare for real world situations, similarly, this creative exercise allows the author to process her feelings about death in a manageable way, potentially making her better equipped to handle real loss when it occurs. - Let's consider potential outcomes of this approach to dealing with death anxiety. Eric, how do you think this method might impact society if it became widespread? - That's a fascinating question, Ted. If more people adopted this creative approach to confronting mortality, we might see a society more at peace with the concept of death. Imagine a world where death isn't this big scary taboo, but something we can discuss openly and even creatively. This could lead to reduced anxiety, more meaningful lives, and perhaps even improvements in end of life care. People might be more inclined to have those difficult conversations about their wishes and legacy, leading to better planning and less stress for families. - That's ridiculously optimistic. I think it would lead to a morbid, death-obsessed culture. People would be constantly thinking about dying instead of living. - On the contrary, Kate, accepting mortality often leads to a greater appreciation for life. Look at cultures with strong, memento mori traditions. They often have rich celebrations of life. It's not about obsessing over death. - But not everyone is a writer. This method won't work for most people. It's elitist to suggest that everyone should start penning fake obituaries. - You're right that not everyone is a writer, Kate, but the principle can be adapted. People could journal, create art, or engage in other creative activities to process their feelings about death. The key is finding a way to engage with the concept of mortality that feels comfortable and meaningful to each individual. It's not one size fits all, but the core idea of creatively exploring our relationship with death can be widely applicable. - Interesting perspectives. Kate, how do you think this approach might affect mental health on a broader scale? - I think it could increase depression and anxiety. Constantly thinking about death is not healthy for most people. We're already dealing with a mental health crisis and encouraging people to dwell on mortality could make things worse. It's like inviting negative thoughts into your life on purpose. I worry that vulnerable individuals might spiral into depression if they start focusing too much on death. Studies actually show that confronting mortality in controlled ways can reduce anxiety. It's avoidance that often leads to increased fear and mental health issues by facing our fears head on. - But there's a risk of people becoming obsessed with death, like the author's fixation on chicken and cooking. Not everyone has the emotional tools to handle this kind of intense focus. - I understand your concern, Kate, but those were her initial untreated responses. The obituary writing was a healthier, more processed approach that actually reduced her anxiety. It's about finding a balance and a method that works for each individual. And remember, this isn't about obsessing over death, but about acknowledging it as a natural part of life. In many cases, this can lead to a greater appreciation for the present moment and stronger connections with loved ones. - Finally, let's consider the potential impact on grief and bereavement. Eric, how might this approach change how we deal with loss? - Great question, Ted. By regularly engaging with the concept of death, people might be better prepared when facing real loss. It could lead to more open conversations about death and more meaningful celebrations of life. Imagine if we approached funerals not just as somber occasions, but as true celebrations of a person's impact and legacy. This method could give people tools to process grief more effectively when it does occur, potentially reducing complicated grief and allowing for healthier morning processes. - Or it could trivialize death and make people less empathetic to real loss. You can't compare writing fake obituaries to actual grief. It's insulting to people who are really suffering. This approach might make people think they're prepared-- - Kate, it's not about comparison, but preparation. This approach could give people tools to process grief more effectively when it does occur. It's like emotional strength training. No one's saying it's the same as real grief, but it can help-- - I think traditional grief counseling and support groups are more effective than writing fiction. We should focus on proven methods instead of these artsy experiments. - I hear you, Kate, but those methods can work in tandem. Creative approaches like this can complement traditional grief support, offering additional outlets for processing complex emotions. It's not about replacing proven methods, but expanding our toolkit for dealing with loss and mortality. Some people might find comfort in support groups, while others might benefit from creative expression. The more options we have for processing these difficult emotions, the better equipped will be as a society to face the inevitable challenges of loss and grief. - Thank you both for this thought-provoking discussion. It's clear that dealing with death anxiety is a complex and personal journey, with room for various approaches. While creative methods like writing fictional obituaries may not be for everyone, they offer an intriguing alternative to traditional coping mechanisms. As we've seen, confronting our mortality can lead to a greater appreciation for life, though it's important to find a balance that works for each individual. Whether through writing, art, or other means, exploring our relationship with death in a controlled manner may help us live more fully in the present.