Coping with Sandy's Aftermath

It’s been a week since Hurricane Sandy it the eastern U.S. The big news today was not about President Obama’s re-election. It was the forecast for another nor’easter.

Many in the New York metro area are still struggling in the aftermath of this giant storm. Thousands still lack power. They’re cold, tired, and frustrated. Large trees still lie across many streets, forcing detours. Hundreds and hundreds lost homes and cars, and sadly some even lost their lives.

It’s not only the physical upheaval that tri-staters must cope with. It’s also the mental health effects of this unnerving act of Mother Nature. I asked my friend Alison Pratt, PhD, a private practice psychologist in Floral Park, NY about the anxiety that accompanies natural disasters like Sandy. She focused on what most of us are now experiencing. Those living through extreme scenarios in places like Breezy Point or Staten Island have a different level of trauma to contend with, but Dr. Pratt reminded me that even the more “mundane” events like long lines for gasoline or downed phone lines are still very stressful.

For example, many who lost power are feeling a lot of resentment, anger and helplessness, she told me. “You start  with a can-do attitude when everyone is in it together. But then you begin feeling left out, or victimized by the power companies, when other neighborhoods come back on line and yours doesn’t.”

It’s been a week since Hurricane Sandy it the eastern U.S. The big news today was not about President Obama’s re-election. It was the forecast for another nor’easter.

Many in the New York metro area are still struggling in the aftermath of this giant storm. Thousands still lack power. They’re cold, tired, and frustrated. Large trees still lie across many streets, forcing detours. Hundreds and hundreds lost homes and cars, and sadly some even lost their lives.

It’s not only the physical upheaval that tri-staters must cope with. It’s also the mental health effects of this unnerving act of Mother Nature. I asked my friend Alison Pratt, PhD, a private practice psychologist in Floral Park, NY about the anxiety that accompanies natural disasters like Sandy. She focused on what most of us are now experiencing. Those living through extreme scenarios in places like Breezy Point or Staten Island have a different level of trauma to contend with, but Dr. Pratt reminded me that even the more “mundane” events like long lines for gasoline or downed phone lines are still very stressful.

For example, many who lost power are feeling a lot of resentment, anger and helplessness, she told me. “You start  with a can-do attitude when everyone is in it together. But then you begin feeling left out, or victimized by the power companies, when other neighborhoods come back on line and yours doesn’t.”

In Far Rockaway with Occupy Sandy

Joy Jacobson is the CHMP’s poet-in-residence. Follow her on Twitter: @joyjaco

“We have hot food and bottled water for you!”

I was in a dark hallway of the JASA towers, a senior housing complex in Far Rockaway, Queens, yesterday, with two other women volunteers, shouting into a closed apartment door. I had met the women a few hours earlier at an Occupy Sandy outpost at a church in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn. The towers had been without power for six days. Most of the elderly residents had found shelter elsewhere, but many remained. This woman was hesitant to open her door to us but wanted

to know: What kind of hot food did we have? Pasta, we yelled, or rice and chick peas. We could bring her some other items, like powdered milk, trash bags, toothpaste, we said, if only she would tell us what she needed.

Occupy Sandy is a hybrid that arose out of catastrophic need. The Occupy Wall Street movement united with 350.org, a coalition dedicated to “solving the climate crisis,” and Recovers.org, a firm specializing in disaster-recovery software, to form one of the most coherent, organized, and relevant community resources in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. Coming into contact with them just days before the presidential election, I’m reminded of the power of community.

After the woman took a hot meal and some toothpaste, I walked back down the hallway (really, I’m not afraid of the dark but I did find it eerie to be feeling my way in total darkness) and came into a lighted area where I saw a sign for the visiting nurse. I banged on the door, not expecting an answer, and was surprised when a nurse opened the door and introduced herself. She invited me to go with her to the ninth floor to check on a few residents.

Joy Jacobson is the CHMP’s poet-in-residence. Follow her on Twitter: @joyjaco

“We have hot food and bottled water for you!”

I was in a dark hallway of the JASA towers, a senior housing complex in Far Rockaway, Queens, yesterday, with two other women volunteers, shouting into a closed apartment door. I had met the women a few hours earlier at an Occupy Sandy outpost at a church in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn. The towers had been without power for six days. Most of the elderly residents had found shelter elsewhere, but many remained. This woman was hesitant to open her door to us but wanted

to know: What kind of hot food did we have? Pasta, we yelled, or rice and chick peas. We could bring her some other items, like powdered milk, trash bags, toothpaste, we said, if only she would tell us what she needed.

Occupy Sandy is a hybrid that arose out of catastrophic need. The Occupy Wall Street movement united with 350.org, a coalition dedicated to “solving the climate crisis,” and Recovers.org, a firm specializing in disaster-recovery software, to form one of the most coherent, organized, and relevant community resources in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. Coming into contact with them just days before the presidential election, I’m reminded of the power of community.

After the woman took a hot meal and some toothpaste, I walked back down the hallway (really, I’m not afraid of the dark but I did find it eerie to be feeling my way in total darkness) and came into a lighted area where I saw a sign for the visiting nurse. I banged on the door, not expecting an answer, and was surprised when a nurse opened the door and introduced herself. She invited me to go with her to the ninth floor to check on a few residents.