What Older Women Should Do When Feeling Down

This is the most effective way to banish the blues.

By

Jane Wollman Rusoff

 
Published August 28, 2025
woman standing in light with dark clouds around her
Kiersten Essenpreis

Lyricist Dorothy Fields, a famous distant cousin of mine, really had the gift to cheer people up with her mega-hit songs, “Pick Yourself Up” (“…dust yourself off, start all over again”) and “The Sunny Side of the Street” (“Grab your coat and get your hat/Leave your worries on the doorstep”), among many other standards.

Me? When I feel down, I use any of six different strategies to pull out of the funk. I've adopted these intuitive methods over a lifetime. Now in my 80s, I turn to them time and time again because I know they work

First, there’s “Distraction Mode.” My first go-to method is playing rousing John Philip Sousa military marches. Nothing says “step out of that misery” like “The Stars and Stripes Forever” or “Semper Fidelis.”

An alternative is watching video clips I find amusing, no matter how many times I see them.

One is an outtake of Peter Sellers cracking up when he stumbles repeatedly on a monologue while filming Being There. Finally, he’s so frustrated that he blurts out “S—T”!

“Listening to music that makes you happy, watching movies that make you laugh — you’re in a slump, but your mood changes,” notes psychoanalyst Diane Malkin, whose practice is in Westchester, New York.

Last but certainly not least in the “Distraction” category is game-playing with my husband, Garry. Sometimes when I’m feeling flat, we have a whirl at Gin Rummy, Battleship or Pick-Up Sticks.

Yes, Pick-Up Sticks. Focusing on trying not to accidentally move the other sticks while deliberately removing one is not only fun but probably helps improve manual dexterity and coordination.

Here’s a second feel-better category that works for me: Looking back at my life. It’s leafing through old family photos (Wasn’t Aunt Pearl a scream in that 1930s swimsuit!) and my mother’s and my autograph albums when we graduated from junior high school — 32 years apart.

Two of my favorite autographs in Mom’s 1924 brown suede book are from a girl named Rachelle: “Love many/Trust few/Learn to paddle/Your own canoe”. Then, there was this encouragement that Judy wrote: “Sit on a tack, and you are bound to rise!”

The nostalgic trip of going through vintage dresses in my closet also generates a glow. There’s a stunning toile-patterned sundress I bought at Bergdorf Goodman decades ago and a soft organdy pinafore blouse in blue with a floppy pussycat bow that’s adorably feminine.

A third feel-better strategy for me is “Gazing Ahead” via fantasy. This involves window-shopping at fancy designer stores with absurdly high price tags or looking in my closet for terrific things I’ve bought but have never worn (yet).

For example, I have a gorgeous silk blouse with big, lush cabbage roses on a black background. So far, just touching it is gratifying enough for me.

Then there’s the fourth category: “Enhancing My Appearance”. Trimming my own long hair and giving myself a manicure always sparks a sense of accomplishment. Buying a shade of nail polish that I’ve never worn before triggers the thrill of anticipation. Not only that, but some of their punny names, like “Dressed to Chill” or “Commander in Chic,” are amusing in a corny way.

I simply call the fifth category “Work.” When I feel lousy, my work is often a helpful, therapeutic coping mechanism. I’m a journalist, so selecting sources to contact or writing and editing are so intensely focused that they keep me from falling into a deeper funk.

When it comes to banishing the blues, probably the most effective way I’ve found by far is doing something good for someone else who feels sad. “Reaching Out” is my sixth category.

When my best friend since the age of 12 died of cancer in 2018, which she had been battling for eight years, I was devastated. We were close for more than six decades despite living totally different lives and in different parts of the country.

As soon as I received the call that Abby was gone, I gathered old photos of her and me as kids, including a class photo from the 1950s, and sent copies of them to her son, daughter and widowed partner.

“Doing something for someone else takes you out of your own head,” psychoanalyst Malkin says. “Your friend’s family probably never saw those pictures before. Telling them you’re thinking of them can be so impactful. But you’re also doing something for yourself: You’re valuing the friendship and making meaning out of a loss. And that feels good.”

I put one of the upbeat messages that Abby wrote in my junior high autograph book on the refrigerator door, where it remains and always will.

My dear friend wrote — and I know she was sincere: “May your life be like a fried egg — sunny-side-up.” Below that, she drew a heart with our initials inside and an arrow securing them.

That never fails to lift my spirits. It also perks me up to recall how, after a party when we were 14, Abby and I danced the Lindy over and over again, for a couple of hours, to Frankie Lymon’s major hit, “Why Do Fools Fall in Love?”

Abby’s sense of humor was so cool: The first time she got her period, she announced the news to me in a letter she’d penned with red ink.

I didn’t save that letter physically, but whenever I think of it, I always smile.

When YOU are feeling down, what do you do to feel better? Let us know in the comments below.

Jane Wollman Rusoff is a New York-based writer and editor who has contributed to The New York Times (Home, Arts, National Desk), The New York Times Syndicate (“Hollywood Beat”), Esquire and Good Housekeeping, among numerous other publications. She is the author of five books, three co-written with “Tonight Show” creator Steve Allen.