You can probably remember where you were. I know I can.
I was in a field, in a marquee at a festival, watching a performer. Then it happened. Everyone’s phone went off with the sound, that sound. The emergency alert, warning us of wildfires. Throughout the night, other phones went off. It was constant.
When the alert went off, in that dry field, I panicked. I had arrived a few hours earlier. The landscape deeply unnerved me. Once it was so lush and green and now, that brown yellowishness we’ve all grown used to. When the alarm went off, I could feel my chest tighten. The festival had already banned fires. But they couldn’t stop people cooking, or smoking. There were ignition sources everywhere. We were sitting, sleeping, trying to enjoy ourselves, on a firelighter.
Of course you’ve been panicking about the heatwave. How could you not?
Why heatwaves make you panic
Heatwaves are two things. They represent something about the world we have created. And they are hot.
Heat impacts us in all kinds of ways. In a heatwave, your body will try to cool itself. You will sweat, and your blood vessels will dilate to try to get your blood closer to the surface, so that you can lose heat. This can feel like a tightening, a tension. You might even go red. Sweat, heat, redness — being too hot often looks like being angry or panicked. Our minds sometimes can’t distinguish one signal from the other.
And then there’s this summer, where one heatwave rolls into the next, without much respite. If your body cannot cool down, it cannot calm. Hot days are followed by hot nights and hot nights are often sleepless. Sleep is when our minds process. It’s how we calm. If we cannot sleep, we cannot calm.
Why this heatwave feels so scary
We’ve known about climate change for a long time. And for a long time we have, largely, not done much to mitigate it. It has always been a problem for tomorrow. But I don’t know about you — this summer, tomorrow suddenly feels like today.
We’re beginning to see that the infrastructure we built for a different time is no longer fit for this one. Last week, a train came off the rails. I think that’s the fifth we’ve had this year, but I stopped counting. Your home has probably been suffocatingly hot. What we were warned about has come to pass. And that is a particular kind of fear.
Heatwave anxiety is not only a panic about the heat. It’s also a fear that our world no longer feels safe.
So much of our lives are played out thanks to the cooperation of others. Everyone sticks to the left side of the road when they drive, even though at any moment they could veer into the right. We could all smash each other’s windows, but we choose, moment by moment, in our millions, not to. We just get on with our lives. Our collective wellbeing, fostered by each other.
And as part of that, we outsource the big decisions to the government and leaders of the day. We ask them to keep the show on the road. We all disagree with the detail of what that looks like, that’s what elections are all about, but in the UK, we all assume that the lights will stay on, that there will be food in the shops. We are complacent. That’s not a criticism or a judgement. I am too. It’s all I have ever known. How could I not be?
But this summer, something shifted. The trains, quite literally, came off their tracks. It’s hard to feel safe and secure knowing that this summer is not just an anomaly. It’s part of a trend, one that is just getting started.
There is no point losing yourself in worry given that you still have to go to work, look after the kids, show up for your friends, and for yourself. The challenge is to not let your fear of the future ruin your present.
What to do with heatwave anxiety
I used to be a climate activist. I know what it is like to feel all of this fear. And I have learned, the hard way, the cost of letting those feelings overwhelm you. My job as a therapist is to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to you. I want you to feel witnessed. I want you to feel. And in doing that, we might find some ways you can take comfort and solace.
If you are suffering from heat anxiety, if this summer knocked you out, this is my invitation. Talk to someone, a friend, a lover, a therapist. Do not do this by yourself. You don’t need to. Try also to connect to the Earth, go out in nature, let it support you. Whether it’s a day in the water, in the mountains, or a local park at dusk, try to connect with the world around you. This beautiful mad world is the only place we have ever called home.
Because what we cannot do is resort to numbness. Numbness becomes apathy, and apathy means that nothing changes. The future is in jeopardy, but it is still worth fighting for. Whatever the composition of the atmosphere, whatever the line on the graph looks like, we, you and me, have to keep going. There is no choice but to live. And in that, we can choose how.
The process of therapy can be long, but starting it need not be. The first step is a free 15-minute call. There’s no obligation, just a chance to get a sense of me.