Having Election Anxiety? Therapists Report Trump Trauma

If you’re finding that your emotional well-being is being challenged by this presidential election, you are not alone. The Washington Post writes, “Psychologists and massage therapists are reporting ‘Trump anxiety’ among clients.” According to the Post, what seems to be anxiety producing is, “How can Trump be so divisive AND popular at the same time?”

Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com

My own case of Trump Trauma started shortly after the Republican candidate called Mexicans “rapists.” Like many, I thought, “Well, that will end his campaign.” But that didn’t happen. His rallies grew and so did my anxiety level.   

His insults continued. He mocked the disabled and people of color, and he body-shamed women. We then saw tapes of him bragging about sexually assaulting women while proclaiming, “No one is more respectful of women than me.”

And yet, Republicans didn’t get out of endorsing him while I was having a hard time getting out of bed. Seeing women wave “Women Support Trump” signs, I took to having a cocktail – maybe two -- after the evening news.

There was no 12-step program or halfway house to get over the mania. Going “Trump Free” was impossible as he was on every iPhone news feed, the subject of every Facebook conversation, and even sleep provided no escape as he appeared in my dreams to tell me I was not a 10.  Still, I heard him saying, “You’re fat, you’re old, I’m going to grab you by your pussy, and you can’t stop me!”

In that dream, Trump’s face was replaced by my father’s. Although there was little resemblance between his family and mine, in therapy, the connections surfaced. Both Trump and my father had an undue sense of privilege. In the 1950’s, men were thought of as princes. When nights became violent, my mother made sure that by morning everything looked perfect. The man leaving our home, in a coat and tie, was off to work, providing for his family and a dutiful wife who took care of the house. Those who knew the truth about what was going on in our family – my mother, some neighbors, even the police – did nothing to try to stop it. Men were given a pass.

Trump revealed by his own words that he was a sexual predator. My father didn’t have a videotape with Billy Bush, but he kept a meticulous journal of all his conquests. When I found it after he died, I saw that my mother wasn’t his only victim. If he were alive today, I can imagine my father putting a Trump spin on it, “That never happened. Believe me, she was ugly and flat chested.”

And the women – Melania, my mother, and others – lack the courage to stand up to the monsters sleeping next to them or giving them a pass by chalking it up to "Boy talk."

But, understanding the roots of my Trump Trauma and writing this blog, my anxiety has lessened. Also helping has been the polls showing that others are crossing political lines making a statement that this behavior is not acceptable.

Unfortunately, there will always be men like Trump and my father. But if anything productive comes from this election, I hope there will be more honest conversations about them, and we will unite to help women protect themselves and their children from these men.

12 Tips to Remedy Seasonal Depression

Fall Starts with National Suicide Prevention Month

Seasonal depression is a real thing as I just got an email that September is National Suicide Prevention Month. Wow! Summer over already? In Southern California, the weather doesn’t alert you to the change of seasons. The leaves on palm trees don’t change color. Actually, the drought has all but done away with trees. It’s 78 degrees and there is no obvious difference so we desperately look for a sign that we are approaching winter, things such as: 

• Angelenos are starting to lose their tan.
• With all the kids back in school, the ocean water smells better as there is less pee in it.
• Weight Watcher meetings are less populated with swimsuit season over. 
• The slight coolness in the air whips up sad feelings of loved ones who have fallen from us. We mourn for what was, who we once were, who we’d hoped to be and never will.

You’re probably thinking, “Hey, Judy, you’re supposed to end with a joke.” I know, that last bullet was sad.  And that’s why September makes sense for a Suicide Prevention Month.

But, as someone who sometimes falls into seasonal depression, I look to turn messes to successes. It’s a way of making them hurt less. Some of you prone to seasonal depression understand what I’m talking about. So, I’m sharing my list of things to do when you fall backwards. I keep it on my iPhone in my “Notes” always available to turn to. That helps cope with the urge to have yet another Whiskey Sour, order Chinese food delivery AFTER dinner, or I find myself wondering if middle age is too late for a second career as a prostitute. 

Carter’s Combat Depression List:

Break into in case of emergency

Hug your dog.

1. MOVE: Go to another room. Go in the yard. Go to the store. Go anywhere other than where you are.
2. GET A MASSAGE. People who get paid to touch us generally do a better job than the ones in bed with us. 
3. SHOP ON AMAZON. You can always return the stuff when you feel better.
4. WALK YOURSELF OR YOUR DOG TO A NEW PLACE. Get away from the usual routine. The vibes of a different place, with different people is invigorating and healing. 
5. WRITE AN APPRECIATIVE FACEBOOK POST, SEND A TEXT OR EMAIL. Tell someone how and why you appreciate them. Helping another person is a terrific spirit lifter.
6. PLAY A VIDEO GAME. Shooting the bad guy is a great way to express your anger and lift the fog.
7. SING. Even if no one else will, your dog will listen.
8. MAKE A LIST. Count the times you felt happy and try to recreate that state of mind.
9. GIVE AWAY MONEY. But not to the wrong candidate. Kiva.com is a great site that loans money to impoverished small business owners who repay them. It’s the gift that truly keeps on giving.
10. GO ON MEET.UP.COM You’ll get to know strangers who are worse off than you. Maybe others who’ve read this list. That will help put things in perspective.
11. PAINT BY NUMBERS. When I write my books, I always do paint by numbers. You can’t go wrong. It’s easier than staying in the lines in a coloring book. There are no choices and it’s guaranteed to look like the picture on the box it came in. 
12. LABEL THINGS. Get an DYMO labeler and go to work. It makes a satisfying sound as it spits out labels such as “Ground Cumin” “2015 Taxes” and “Love Letters Circa 1985.” You will feel productive. But, if you over do it and start labeling you cats, “Cat” call your therapist ASAP.

What are your tips to fighting Fall Funk?

The Number One Tip to Being Funny

Have you ever bombed when trying to be funny?  OK, if you’re a comic, or a speaker, you probably are going to lie, right?

I’ll admit it – even, I, the author of "The Comedy Bible" have bombed.  Yes, I’m been in that "no-laughs" misery zone that segues into that “I-know-I-can-get-them” desperation mode.

It isn’t pretty.

Here are some of the STUPID THINGS that I have done when bombing:

1. I start pacing. The bad news is that I look like a moving target. The good news is that I’ve racked up 3.2 miles on my Fitbit. 
2. I start laughing at my own jokes. How phony is that? Obviously I’ve heard them before.
3. I talk faster. One time I finished an hours worth of material in 15 minutes. A big problem when you’re the headliner. Now what?
4. I walk into the audience to do crowd work. Not such a smart idea to get closer to the very people who hate you.
5. I talk louder. Yes… a middle-aged woman shouting is SO much funnier.
6. I start criticizing the audience. And we all know how well that works when trying to get someone to love you. 
7. I get dirty. Right! As if talking about pubic hair while people are eating nachos is attractive.

So, what is the number 1 secret to being funny? It’s to NOT TRY to be funny. Every time I haven’t done well, it’s because I wasn’t into what I was saying. I was just up there TRYING.  “Trying” is not BEING..

So, rather than going onstage thinking, “I’m going to try to get people to laugh”; go onstage to COMMUNICATE your point of view, your opinions, your message. Even if you don’t get laughs, you still will have a purpose. And most importantly, going onstage DOING rather than TRYING will make you authentic, and even get you laughs.

Outlaw immigrants? Then No Baklava for Trump!

Stop hypocrisy by living by the laws you make

 

Our Congress refuses to pass laws on gun control as they voted down 4 bills today.

While everyone is talking about Orlando, I am thinking of another state, Ohio. In a few weeks, Republicans will flock there but although Ohio is an open carry state, no guns will be allowed at the convention. Right out of the gate, Donald Trump talked about the wall he would build if elected and in fact, he has already built one for himself.  His wall of high security at Trump Tower, his bodyguards, his private jets means he doesn't have to be in around crazy people who have assault rifles, but the rest of us do.

There certainly wasn't a wall of protection around anyone who died from a bullet in a movie theater, a high school, a church, a college campus, or, most recently, a nightclub.

Sobbing along with others in my Venice Beach community, we listened as they read the 49 names of the mostly gay Latinos gunned down in Orlando. We hugged each other and recommitted to the fight to end easy access to assault rifles that allow a mentally ill person to shoot hundreds in minutes.

I was sure that this would be the event that pushed our leaders to do something to stop this gun insanity. Instead, I hear I hear Donald Trump’s solution is building walls and preventing immigrants from entering this country.

You know the Golden Rule? Treat others as you would want to be treated? I have a new one. The people who make the laws have to live by the laws they create.

Strange as they say that everyone carrying guns makes us safer. Following that logic, concealed weapons SHOULD be allowed at their convention. They want them in schools, then why not at their convention or, for that matter, in Congress?

Similarly those who refuse to raise the minimum wage should be paid like the employees at Walmart. And we all know that the clerks work a hell of lot harder than our Congress people.

They don’t like Obamacare? Cancel their free medical insurance provided by taxpayers and let them try to get insurance with a preexisting condition.

You don’t support Black Lives Matter, minorities or gays? Then you can listen only to white people music. That’s right, bop along to an accordion solo. And, have a straight person do your hair (I’m sure that’s the explanation for Donald’s “every day is a bad hair day”).

You want to build walls that keep out immigrants? Then you don’t get to eat Greek or Ethiopian food, delicious Korean-Mexican short-rib tacos or amazing Pasta Fogioli at that new Italian restaurant direct from Naples. Enjoy your can of SpaghettiOs.

Let the lawmakers live with the consequences of the laws they support. Maybe that will teach them the contributions foreigners have made to our culture, and they might be more open to building bridges, not walls.

Sign the Petition: "Ban Assault Weapons Now" 

What do you think? Please add your comments.

Getting Depression to Move Out and You Move On

Part 4 in a 4 part series on Depression

View others in this series:
Part 1: "Are Comedians More Depressed?"
Part 2: "When Depression Visits and Stays"
Part 3: "Do We Have Any Control Over Depression?"

Mr. D. was firmly planted in my being, but I was determined to unseat him.

Since I started writing about depression I’ve been inundated with well-wishers giving me solutions, including: meditation, MDMA, exercise, various TED talks, and moving to join a cult. I do appreciate the intent behind all my readers, and since exercise didn’t involve packing for a trip to be in a cult, I put on my Target tights, gathered my dogs and went out for a jog, moving slowly enough so that someone on crutches could whiz past me. I kept going, waiting for a runner’s high. It never came. But, something else happened that changed everything.

I ran past a man walking his dog and my dog’s leash got tangled around his leg. He bellowed at me, “God damn it!”

The force of his anger shocked me. It was excessive. All that was going on was two leashes getting involved. I quickly untangled mine, apologizing, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” over and over again.
Glaring at me with hateful eyes, he kept yelling, “God damn you!”

I hadn’t run more than half a block before I ducked into an alley and collapsed in a puddle of tears. We all have our limits. Both the external world and my inner world were conspiring and yelling at me. But, this time, I recognized those angry eyes. I also noted the voice was familiar. It belonged to my father, drunk and screaming at 6-year-old me for spilling milk at the dinner table, “God damn it! You are worthless, worthless.” In that moment, I found out who Mr. D was.

Sobbing, I continued to sit in the alley. This was no movie star cry. It was ugly and heaving. I thought about my father, about all the angry old people, and that horrible angry man. As a child, I wasn’t allowed to cry. Now I could let it all out. I comforted myself by wrapping my arms around my torso. My dogs caught on and licked my face. Somehow I felt lighter when I got up. I was feeling again.
I continued my jog around the golf course. In the distance, I saw the angry man walking towards me. My inclination was to go another way, but an inner voice challenged that, asking, “Why change where you are going?” It was a voice I hadn’t heard in a long time. Kind. Strong. Reasonable. It was the voice I heard when doing standup comedy, the one I used to make sure that the hecklers in the audience didn’t have the final say. It was the voice that had my back, the one I could count on now to deal with the angry man.

With my head held high, I looked directly at him and said, “Have a good day.” Saying this simple positive phrase was a triumph. I didn’t let him turn me angry. I realized that his anger had nothing to do with me, and my sadness had nothing to do with him. And in that moment, the course of my personal emotional history shifted. People do and can trigger the past, but it has nothing to do with who I truly am in the present. And today, in this this expression of positivity, another angry person didn’t get to have the final word.

That night, I woke up while it was still dark, stunned to discover the voice that had been telling me I didn’t deserve to live was gone. Mr. D had left the building, replaced by the voice of quiet. I could hear and enjoy the quiet snoring of my beloved dogs. The birds welcoming the dawn. And I was pleased to again feel a sense of peace, something that had been eluding me for a long time.

It’s now my 3-month anniversary of celebrating life. My energy has returned. Mr. D has come back, but it’s temporary lodging and he no longer hangs around for long. I uploaded an app that tracks moods that helps keep Mr D at bay. I’ve stopped being ashamed of depression because I understand how much it has given me. Depression has escalated my power of empathy. It’s magnified my inner strength. It’s made me accept that life is not a series happy events, but rather it’s a series of disappointments where we learn how to transform messes to successes. Happiness is not delivered free of charge, but realized.

Regardless of which voice is in my head at any moment, I’m grateful that I am again able to feel something. Anything – sadness, anger, fatigue and joy. Mostly, I appreciate feeling love: the love coming from my friends, family, my dogs, and you, the readers who write me with your own stories.

Some Day my Prince Will Come: Prince was my Prince

Opening for Prince was a peak moment in my standup career. He first burst into my life when I got a call from my agent to appear with this new singer-songwriter being described as a wunderkind at the world famous club, The Roxy, on Sunset Strip.

It was the late 80’s and I’d been warned by comic Ed Bluestone that a white Jewish comic (me) might not be ideal for Prince’s audience.  Challenged accepted! I needed a plan.

I got an idea.

I picked up my accordion and got to the Roxy early. Seeing people lining up for the show, I put on dark glasses and pretended to be blind, playing the song, “Lady of Spain,” over and over again for an hour. Some people were kind and threw quarters. As the line began to move, I could hear his hip fans comment, “Thank God we don’t have to listen to that crap anymore!”

When everyone was seated and psyched up to see Prince, the announcer said, “Now, opening for Prince is comedian Judy Carter.” I walked out on stage with the accordion and heard the entire audience exclaim in unison, “Oh shit!”

From that point on, it was a love fest between the audience and me. Supported by their enthusiasm, I was flying high. I didn’t want to end except that I couldn’t wait to tell Ed Bluestone that if there was actually a bridge, I’d crossed it and connected.

Later, Prince came into my dressing room and introduced himself. I was struck by how tiny is was. Onstage he’d had such a huge presence. It was obvious that he was painfully shy as he said, “Thank you for opening for me. You were really terrific.”

After performing more frequently, I learned that it was unusual for a headliner to watch the opening act, let alone speak to the underling. But Prince was unique – a kind, supportive, and generous man.
That led to me becoming the opening act for every African American act that appeared at the Roxy, including the Temptations, the Four Tops, the Manhattans and jazz singers like Clint Holmes and Esther Phillips. Those gigs were responsible for me getting a contract with Caesars Palace.

 Thank you, Prince. You will be sorely missed. Tonight I will party like it’s 1999.

Aerobic Laughing: A New Weight Loss Plan

Congratulations to Caitlyn Jenner. 

Looking at the upcoming Vanity Fair cover, I admired her courage to come out of shame and emerge as the person she was meant to be. We have all read about Bruce Jenner’s decades of living in a body that didn’t match who he knew himself to be. 

On some level, I can relate to that. With the risk of sounding shallow, I have had my own body image struggles and can identify with Caitlyn. I know this is far different from being transgender, but how often I have looked in the mirror and seen a stranger with belly fat and stretch marks. And, like my dogs, I, too, have nipples on my stomach. Inside was a skinny, glamorous woman, but nobody else was getting to see her.

Source: Courtesy of Cathryn Michon

One of the problems was my weight. It was always hard to shed those pounds. It only got worse after I turned 50, as my metabolism seemed to have taken an early retirement. I now have to jog five miles just to work off a tic-tac I ate in the 90’s. The only things that fit from my earlier years are my earrings. Like Vegas, what goes on in my body—stays in my body. 

I’d tried every diet, every pill, even Overeaters Anonymous—which doesn’t make sense—what’s so anonymous about it? You’re fat and everyone knows it. A lot of things didn’t work, but what finally did was laughing. The same techniques I used on stage as a standup comic proved to be fat fighters. Humor turned out to be the new secret weight loss method. You can literally laugh off your pounds.  

It’s no joke (excuse the pun)—laughing has been shown to boost your immune system and reduce both stress and physical pain. It also lowers your blood sugar levels. Dr. Helen Pilcher, a neuroscientist AND a comic (no, she doesn’t go by the name Shecky Pilcher), has found that laughing for one hour can burn up to 100 calories. And you don’t have to squeeze into spandex to laugh.

As soon as I stopped beating myself up about my body and started approaching food with a sense of humor, I lightened up—literally.

Here are a few steps to help you feel more confident, happier, and healthier:

1. Poke fun at your fat. When someone asked, “How are you?” instead of feeling ashamed of being overweight, I’d joke about it. “I’m only fifteen pounds away from what it says on my driver’s license.” Self-mocking is better than anything else for taking the heaviness out of the issue. 

2. Gain power over temptation. When you laugh at something, you have power over it. So rather than reach for that cookie, I take a picture of it. I put it on my phone. Let anyone show me a picture of a grandchild and I'll say, “I’ll show you something sweet.”

3. Have snappy comebacks for your inner heckler. As a standup comic, I know how to deal with drunk, abusive hecklers. But when it came to that nasty, defiant voice inside my head, I was never so quick. I let it cut into my confidence and would give up on dieting. Now, I pull a Donald Trump and tell the under-miner, “Hey, you’re fired!” I replaced that critical voice with a more upbeat, “Hey gorgeous, you’re going to be bikini-ready. You’re on the John Oliver, Jon Stewart, Amy Schumer Diet.”  You won’t, but if you should want to cheat on the diet, you can slip in a few moments of morose brooding. 

3 Speaking Tips From Oscar Winners: Legendary speeches at Oscars 2015

Were the Oscars taken over by motivational speakers this year?  Is John Legend the next Tony Robbins? Judging by the results, it certainly seems so.

Rather than giving mindless thank yous, this year’s winners shared MESSAGES. You can change the world in less than one minute, and speakers can definitely learn a thing or two from this.

TIP ONE: Have a call-to-action – A call-to-action is an instruction to the audience to do something. At the end of J.K. Simmons’ emotional acceptance speech, he told the 1 billion plus people watching, “Go call your parents… If you’re lucky enough to have a parent or two alive, call them! Don’t text. Don’t email. Call them! Listen to them for as long as they want to talk to you."  Now that’s a powerful call-to-action!

TIP TWO:  Have a point of view – Several winners used their time at the podium to share their feelings on different issues.  Patricia Arquette spoke out for feminism when she declared: “It's our time to have wage equality” as she accepted her Oscar for Boyhood.

Reese Witherspoon echoed my blog “Don’t Waste your Red Carpet Time” (link is external)when she called out Hollywood for ignoring real issues in favor of chat about dresses as part of the #askhermore campaign.

John Legend, who won for Best Song, made a strong statement. “Selma is now because the struggle for justice is right now… We live in the most incarcerated country in the world. There are more black men under correctional control today then were under slavery in 1850.” Wow! I had tears in my eyes.

Best Actor Eddie Redmayne (The Theory of Everything) spoke about ALS while Best Actress Julianne Moore (Still Alice) used her time to talk about Alzheimer's.Birdman director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu called for respect for Mexican immigrants during his acceptance speech. “We are with you, we see you, we love you, and march on.”

TIP THREE: Reveal your own journey from mess to success.  Perhaps no one gave a more powerful speech than Graham Moore, who won the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar for The Imitation Game. He used his time at the podium to give a highly personal speech about suicide awareness and depression. "I tried to commit suicide at 16, and now I'm standing here," he said. "I would like for this moment to be for that kid out there who feels like she doesn’t fit in anywhere. You do. Stay weird. Stay different, and then when it's your turn and you are standing on this stage, please pass the same message along."

Wow! It’s been a long time since the Oscars speeches were as substantial and motivational as this.  Hooray for Hollywood!

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