My Life In Crisis

I’m an empathic, sensitive, water energy, color-blue-loving soul.

What that means is I feel things deeply. My own “things” and other people’s. I take on energies and emotions from all around me. I crave and seek to create comfort. I crave harmony in all people, places and things. It’s a beautiful combination…until it isn’t.

I’m also a 15 year Crisis Management industry professional. Not the “gladiators in suits” kind of crisis management this buzzword now portrays. The real-world Crisis Management and the world of Crisis Management that would draw in someone who has all those soulful qualities above. The emotional, comfort-giving, harmony desiring survivor and family support kind of Crisis Management. Supporting family members after an aviation accident turns their lives upside downs and rips a loved one from their world unexpectedly. Providing information and care to survivors and families of victims after 9/11 or bombings in the Middle East. Ensuring employees displaced by natural disasters have a life-line to the company they work for and are taken care of in a humane and compassionate way.

That’s what it was always about, helping companies prepare for what could happen and when and if it did, because it DOES happen, being there.

Being there for the companies to provide support and consultation on how and what to do…and why. Providing support on their behalf to employees, survivors and families impacted. Working tirelessly to ensure the right thing was being done.

People-focused. Heart driven. Do the right thing.

I recently “retired”, a self-imposed retirement, from my profession. I discovered that while my empathic, sensitive, water energy, color-blue-loving soul made me really good at what I did…it made what I did really not so good for me. I didn’t understand how to manage that soul-mix in the midst of my career realities. I had no idea how to protect myself.

I didn’t know how to mindfully care for my body and mind so as it all seeped in, I pushed it down, and it lived and breathed inside.

They don’t teach you this stuff in crisis management education programs, but they should! They don’t talk about the emotional tolls. They don’t talk about ways to process. They don’t talk about boundaries and limits. They don’t even talk about talking. And the people I worked for and with? Well, let’s just say they didn’t set the best examples either. And my general life experience, well, talking was not exactly a cornerstone learning in my childhood environment either.

So as I’m trying to “save the world” I’m doing so with no personal impact boundaries and I’m doing it mostly in silence. The reality of this career is it’s not an open book. There are things you just can’t discuss when you are working with people in crisis. And when you work on behalf of other companies, you are always in the background. It wasn’t like I could leave work for the day and go talk to my friends or family about all the things they weren’t seeing in the news headlines.

And, even if…and occasionally when…I could talk about my job, the reactions I got were uncomfortable.

The topics were heavy. The emotions were not joyful. At a friend’s party once, I was told not to talk about what I do. After seeing news of a terrible natural disaster while visiting family and expressing emotion and concern for the people and the clients I knew were likely impacted, disrespectful and hurtful remarks about my reaction cut deep.

So there it was, the reinforcement of silencing my voice. The demise of my verbal processing. The shutting out of people around me and never fully sharing me.

To this day, I’m guessing most people in my life don’t really understand what I did for a living. They have an idea and they put it in a category that “feels” right, but it rarely is. They don’t know the stories, the memories or the realities. How could they? Most of them live in my silence.

So here I was the people-focused, heart-driven soul navigating this emotional world of crisis without the proper tools.

I had the practical skills. I had the people skills. I have the perfect combination of energy and natural talents to be compassionate, calm, think quickly, see the details and the big picture simultaneously and stay open to changing course when needed. Changing courses happens a lot in crisis…it’s why it’s called crisis…organized chaos is really the best you can hope for because you’re never prepared for every scenario.

And now I’m changing course in life.

Navigating a path to boundaries, healthy avenues for caring and comforting…which for now means focusing on caring and comforting myself mostly…and internal harmony.

But on days like today, when bombs explode around Brussels, the world is on high alert and the pictures and the stories all around me bring to mind the names and stories of victims, families and survivors from tragic events of the past it’s hard to let go.

The adrenaline is still there, with nowhere to go now. The deep compassion and desire to provide comfort has no way to act. The feelings of guilt that I’m not helping and I didn’t do enough when I was sits heavily, like somehow I should have done more somewhere to prevent today. And all the days like it that came before. Unrealistic, I know, but sometimes you can’t reason with your heart. A heart that is painfully aware of what comes next.

I don’t know those directly impacted and never will, but I know the general story that is about to unfold for them and the responders. The process. The strangers. The pain. The denial. The anger. The “new normal” that their lives will become. I know it because I can put faces and names to those who traveled this road before. The people who have stayed with me to this day. The young mom who survived an aviation accident and her harrowing story of returning to her family, and the deep love and dedication from her husband. The young man who lost his life in 9/11, his face I can still see in my mind with a smile that clearly lit up the room and an outpouring of love from his friends and family. The daughter who lost her parents in an aviation accident who selflessly sent flowers of appreciate to the response teams for their assistance. A dedicated group of responders, sitting in a hotel room so quiet and still you could hear a pin drop, transcribing last messages from loved ones of victims who wanted their messages included in a memorial service. Each of us honoring the victims and the families’ as we worked and forever carrying that moment with us.

I always felt like it was selfish to share these stories.

These stories that weren’t really mine. These stories that belonged to other people and were full of emotions and realities that went way beyond my temporary view. I felt like talking about my emotions and my impacts took away from their story, because it wasn’t about me. These stories were reserved for training programs, and then only because it was a “teachable moment” and an opportunity to make a difference in the future.

The harmony of the world is upset yet again and the dis-harmony in my body rises back up.

If you talk to my five closest friends, they will tell you they’ve never heard the stories above. Many of them I haven’t thought of in some time. Today, for whatever reason, they came back and from somewhere the permission to share them was granted. Maybe it’s a nudge along my change of course. An agreement that it’s time to move on.

My compassion hasn’t changed at all. But, thanks to my new path, today I get to live from a new place and do things different. Today I get to reach into my new bag of tools. Not the bag of strategic thinking, quick decision-making and compassionate care that ultimately took its toll. The bag of self-care and creativity. The bag full of color breathing exercises to help calm today’s anxiety that lives loudly in my chest, art Doodling creative meditation techniques to calm my mind and manage my thoughts, and maybe most important for me…talking. Letting go of my silence. Sharing some of my story. Owning up to my own vulnerability and writing this post to share my past and my present. Cleansing and healing but also hoping that my words will remind someone of the importance of doing the right thing, because the world needs your reminder, and maybe reach someone who is struggling the way I was. I hope that they take my lessons learned and do it differently. I hope schools that educate and organizations that provide these kinds of services hear me and find ways to provide better tools and resources.

The word outside likely isn’t going to get any less chaotic. But the world inside can.

Melissa McClain has over 15 years of experience in the crisis management industry and has worked with international travel and hospitality companies to prepare for and respond to mass casualty and major disaster events. Her focus was on ensuring effective and compassionate support for employees, survivors and families. During her career, she supported organizations through several major terrorist attacks and natural disasters. As she transitions to a more creativity-focused life, Melissa is building her fine art photography portfolio with unique collections like her signature Water Colors and others that bring abstract, modern creativity to traditional nautical and landscape photography.

Through her Coloring & Creativity Workshops she teaches clients how to use coloring and creativity programs for self-awareness, personal growth and mindful health. Click here for more information on workshops and a FREE coloring and creativity e-course. Learn to tame the inner and outer chaotic with mindful coloring.