AS a daughter of Black River, the last week has been so, so hard. I have so many emotions and writing allows me to express all that I am feeling. And what I am feeling is a whole lot of loss, grief, nostalgia, relief, frustration, helplessness, love, pride, and stress. A LOT of stress.

Black River was where I spent my childhood, after arriving at age four with Windrush generation parents who met and married in London, England. Black River is where my parents built there dream retirement home, and where family members have been principal, teachers, pastor, nurse, bank staff, public servants, and more. My great, great, great grandfather Archibald Monteith got married in Black River Anglican Church. I know the coconut guy, the cane guy, the women in the market where I get plantains, callaloo, mangoes, and the rastaman from which we get local honey. I know the manager at the bank and have a great ‘link’ at the tax office.

The madness of Melissa – My story

When Melissa started her very slow trek towards Jamaica, Jamaicans at home and abroad grew attached to their screens. We watched her two-mile per hour crawl in terror, and listened to every prediction and studied every diagram scared out of our shoes at the hyperbolic statements from everyone including meteorologist, journalists, storm chasers, and elected officials. Melissa showed up and showed out as they said she would. My 100+ member family chat (my mom was one of 14 children and her dad was one of nine) was never quiet as we had people scattered across borders and time zone.

When she finally hit, my youngest nephew Amiri sent us video of the awnings getting ripped apart, and his last words before going silent for 12-plus hours was that there was water coming in through the roof. When we finally heard from him, we found out that he and our three tenants (resident doctors at Black River Hospital) went through the worst of it in our car in the carport after Melissa took the roof. In the middle of the night they left for the relative safety of the two-storey home of my 90-year old aunt who lived three doors away.

By the time she arrived, Jamaicans at home and abroad were almost relieved that she had finally come. Days later, Jamaicans we are emotionally drained from the drama, chronic stress, lack of sleep and food, and the relief of finding out what happened, regardless of what it was. We are simultaneously grateful for lives and devastated by the damage.

The clean-up, repair, and rebuilding may take years and so may our emotional recovery. As a social worker registered to do psychotherapy in Ontario and Alberta in Canada, and mental health advocate and educator with several books on mental health, I thought this could be my contribution to the healing of the people and land I love.

Desolate Diaspora: Managing the distance

1) Acknowledge survivor’s guilt and helplessness

It is natural to feel contradictory feelings at the same time: gratitude, relief, guilt, fear, frustration, shocked, overwhelmed, angry, strong, and vulnerable. But if you find yourself spiralling, go for a walk, talk with someone

2)Take care of your physical health

Trauma can cause anxiety, crying jags, elevated heartrate and blood pressure, irritability and digestive issues. To counteract the assault on our systems, eat nutritious foods, move as much as you can to release physical tension and boost endorphins, and get as much sleep as you can, with herbal teas, warm showers, relaxation/mindfulness techniques, and journalling to get your feelings out.

3) Stay connected with boundaries

When you can’t be there, stay in touch: text, send voice notes and call (respecting limits on data, bandwith, and power). Whatever logistic, resource, money, or wisdom you can collect and/or contribute will give you a sense of control and relieve some of the anxiety.

4) Limit your media consumption; especially social media

Protect your sanity, and skip the doomscrolling. Find a couple reliable sources of information. You need local information, so police and an elected official, and one news channel are all you need. Also avoiding screens will help you get more sleep.

5)Turn worry into witness

Tell your story on social media. Share accurate information, raise awareness, money and resources, and highlight examples of resilience.

Living on da rock – healing at home

1) Start with safety and structure

Chaos is the natural response to a once-in-a-lifetime natural disaster, so control what you can. Focus on your safety and create routines, that may include finding food and needed resources, connecting, charging devices, cleaning, building, etc.

2) Give yourself grace and space to grieve

After a traumatic event that has no foreseeable ‘end’, it is normal to feel a wide range of emotions that come, go or are present all at the same time. Share yours and listen to others. Jamaicans are tough, and ‘wi tek serious tings mek joke’. And though laughter is the best medicine, the relief that tears bring are also strength and resilience. Let it out and let it go.

3) Lean into community and faith

Jamaica’s greatest resource is its people. As we are proud to say, ‘wi likkle but wi tallawah’. We are resourceful, resilient and work together. Helping others makes us feel good so share resources, cook for others, take care of animals, or join community clean-ups. Whatever your religious beliefs, find strength and solace in them, and practice daily as part of your routine.

4) Seek professional and peer support

As a therapist whose clients include many Jamaicans, I know how hard it is for us to seek help with our mental well-being. If Melissa was a punch that broke your nose, you would seek help. Same thing for your psyche. Seek out your pastor, a mental health professional, community-based counsellors, or peer groups such as women’s groups and WhatsApp communities.

Resilience and recovery

Trauma is hard, and its impacts can last a lifetime. Developing a toolkit of coping strategies at this crucial time can provide a solid emotional and psychological foundation for the rest of your life. Jamaicans have survived a lot; including other hurricanes. But when the hits keep coming, anyone can feel overwhelmed. Resilience is rest, rebuilding, adapting, and reaching for help when you need it. ‘Toughing it out’ is not resilience. It’s a recipe for another kind of disaster.

Melissa did not take our resolve, but she will remain in our hearts, families and communities for our lifetimes and beyond. You can protect yourself from further harm, and take this opportunity to prioritize your mind and spirit, and give you the mental resources to not just survive but thrive.

Breathe

For both Jamaican diaspora and Jamaicans on the rock, when you wake up in the morning and before you go to bed at night, take long, slow deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Count to four as you do it to keep it slow. This will relax your body, release cortisol and calm your mind. Do this whenever you are feeling stressed or overwhelmed.

Dr Ruth White is a Toronto-based registered social worker who provides culturally-aligned psychotherapy for residents of Ontario and Alberta.