We all face difficult times at some point in our lives. Sometimes, adversity comes in waves, with one hardship or misfortune following another. These times can change our lives and challenge our beliefs about the world.

What makes for adversity is different for each person. For example, while one person might see the loss of a job as an opportunity, many (if not most) would find it stressful.

These life-changing situations often happen when we experience a death, job loss, serious illness or other traumatic events.

How you act when faced with setbacks and hardships can be as unique as you are.  But according to the American Psychological Association (APA), what you have in common with anyone else facing adversity is “a flood of strong emotions and a sense of uncertainty.”

So how do we overcome adversity?

Aaron Swartz, 26, an Internet developer and activist, committed suicide last week. The tech world has since been ablaze commenting and speculating on his life… and his death.

While many people point to the cause of his death connected to the overzealous prosecution by U.S. District Attorney Carmen Ortiz, it’s unlikely that a single thing led to his decision. If Aaron Swartz was like most of the 100 people every day who take their own lives in this country, the biggest thing that likely led to his death was untreated or under-treated depression.

Which comes as no surprise to people who knew him and have written about him. Nor after reading his own struggles with depression earlier in his life.

His passing is indeed a tragedy. But it’s time to realize that he lived and thrived in a technology sub-culture that mostly doesn’t understand — or care much — about mental illness.

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”
~ John F. Kennedy

I live on the water at the Jersey shore and the reports about Hurricane Sandy were not to be taken lightly. I caught the last train out of Washington D.C. and headed back to the home. Everything on the dock had to be secured or removed and it was already raining.  From the Amtrak station I raced down the Garden State Parkway. 

The rain was relentless.

I went straight through the house to the back prepared to work in the rain to save my stuff.  I had only moved into my house months earlier, and since I travel a lot barely knew the neighbors.  The water was rapidly rising. Trees were already down and everyone had already been evacuated. The town was broadcasting a red alert. I had to get in and get out — fast.

I came in the front door and ran to the back to get out to the dock. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. 

How are we expected to move on with our lives, with holiday shopping, meal planning, cookie baking and parties after what happened in Newtown, Conn. on Dec. 14, 2012?

On the day of the shooting I went to two holiday parties where everyone carefully avoided talking about what happened just hours earlier. It was weird and a relief at the same time.

Someone wrote that even those of us far away from the incident still may need to go through the five stages of grief as described by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross.

The day it happened, as we discovered the horror, many of us clung to the denial and bargaining phases. We did not want to believe we were all so vulnerable and made up reasons to avoid going there. Some just went straight to anger, even depression. None of us was ready for acceptance.

It is increasingly apparent that the Sandy Hook Elementary School tragedy has ripped open a deep wound in the American heart — particularly for parents of kids with mental health challenges.

Unlike the aftermath of other, similar tragedies, it seems that no amount of conversation, in person or online, helps ease the pain we’re feeling about the events in Newtown, Conn. on Dec. 14, 2012.

No doubt part of our shock and sorrow has to do with the ages of those gunned down, and the accumulated trauma from the sheer number of previous school shootings. But I believe there’s much more going on here. The children who died as a result of Adam Lanza’s bullets and his apparent mental illness may not have been our own flesh and blood, but the agony of saying goodbye to them has become a shared experience filled with equal parts grief and survivors’ guilt.

After the tragic shooting in Newtown Connecticut last Friday, many have good reason to feel anguish, despair and misery.

These events touched many families personally. For those of us not directly affected, they can still leave us with feelings of horror and wanting to hold our loved ones near.

As a nation and as individuals, we could not possibly have anticipated or planned to have to deal with the emotional consequences of such an event. And yet here we are… many of us saddened, enraged and overwhelmed.

In rearing my kids I always told them that ‘hate’ is a strong word. Don’t use it lightly, I advised. Don’t say, “I hate this tuna casserole!” Instead say, “Gee Mom, I strongly dislike this tuna casserole. Could I have a hot dog?” Save ‘hate’ for when ‘hate’ is the only word that can describe how you feel, when it counts.

I hate so much of what has happened recently.

I hate the senseless loss of the innocents. I hate the loss of good people who cared for the innocents.

From there it gets a little murky.

I hate that I have to separate myself from this tragedy in order to survive it. This is happening to them, not to me. I am safe, my children are safe.

Isn’t anywhere safe anymore?

You can send your kids off to the movies — and they may get shot. Or they might go to hang out at the mall — and risk getting shot. Or to high school or college — where they might get shot. Kids get kidnapped on their way home from school and abducted out of their beds.

Now 20 first graders have been gunned down in their first grade classrooms.

In the last few years, our national sense of safety has been repeatedly shaken. We can’t take it for granted that when innocent kids do innocent, everyday things, they will risk nothing more than a belly ache from eating too much popcorn or an argument with a friend.

I learned of the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School today as many of my fellow Americans did. Just through the door from a toddler gym class with my daughter, I scrolled through my Facebook feed to see a flood of posts like this:

“Deeply saddened and shocked. I have no words.”

“Heartbroken.”

“My heart goes out to the families.”

Nearly my entire feed – filled with friends and contacts from around the world – was posting about the same event.

Several years ago, I might have been confused but this isn’t the first horrible event I’ve learned about in this way. Like many of us, I’ve become somewhat accustomed to hearing such news first through social networking venues. I respond by immediately checking trusted news sources or calling a loved one. Social media has a unique way of bringing us back to so many original habits and behaviors.

As the day progressed, the steady flow of Sandy Hook statuses continued. Most statuses focused on the sheer sadness, grief, and immeasurable loss associated with losing so many precious lives.

There’s a reason why “heartbreak” is synonymous with “breakup.” Breakups are painful. It can feel like the pain resides in our heads, our hearts and in our bones. Sometimes it’s a faint ache, like a sore muscle. Other times, it’s a full-on throbbing, a raw wound.

Post-breakup, people often “feel sad, lost, empty, alone, and angry,” said Meredith Hansen, Psy.D, a clinical psychologist and relationship expert. They might withdraw from friends and family and have a hard time doing their work, and their self-esteem might suffer, she said. According to Hansen, they might also show other signs of depression, such as loss of interest in activities, loss of appetite, development of sleeping problems or feelings of hopelessness.

People suffering from heartbreak might turn to self-destructive behaviors with grave effects. “Substance abuse, multiple sexual partners, and avoidance of vulnerable emotions can lead to serious health issues, long-term health problems, and potential mental health issues,” Hansen said.

When a sudden, unanticipated catastrophe lands on your doorstep, there’s before and there’s after.

One day life is going on as it always has. The next day life deals you such a blow that nothing will ever be the same.

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” you wail. “How could this have happened? Someone, someone, please someone wake me from this horrific nightmare and tell me it’s all a dream.”

But no one does.

United States President Barack Obama celebrated his November 2012 victory with a mix of cool eloquence and raw emotion rarely seen in public leaders. The emotion culminated in a teary moment during his speech thanking campaign workers.

Underneath the obvious reasons for celebration lay an ancient mechanism of stress release and interpersonal bonding found in tear production. Contrary to Western stereotypes about crying and weakness, Obama shared something with his audience that has served human needs throughout history.

What is the science behind tears? What is their purpose? Let’s find out…