The Collective Trauma of COVID-19
The COVID-19 pandemic is a collective trauma. While we may experience the effects differently, we are all subject to the current unpredictability, powerlessness, isolation, and immobility. It makes perfect sense to fall into the vortex of hopelessness, but there are things that can help.
Perhaps you’re feeling disoriented, tense, or worried. Perhaps you feel overwhelmed or numb. Coined “moral fatigue,” perhaps you’re also feeling exhausted because currently, even some of the most mundane decisions and activities have potentially dire consequences. Navigating complicated ethical situations can lead to mental and emotional burnout, which in turn, can lead to disconnection with others and further isolation. It also breeds conflict and judgment as we wrestle with situations that do not have a clear answer. Look no further than your Facebook page or the news to see the arguments about wearing masks or re-opening businesses.
Another reason why this pandemic feels especially challenging is that we are attempting to cope with a sustained threat without any confirmation of when or how it will end. In addition to the collective blow to humankind, we may also be coping with immense changes on a personal level. Maybe a loved one became sick, or you missed an important event, or suffered financially, or notice relationships dissolving. Thus, we are holding an extreme amount of fear and anticipation, which activates our trauma response system.
Understanding how our autonomic nervous system works, and therefore what happens during trauma, can be normalizing and provide context to our experience. Our nervous system operates unconsciously and intuitively. It runs in the background, controlling our bodily functions so that we can think about things like what we want to watch next or what we’ll plant in the garden. The nervous system works synergistically to create psychological and physical homeostasis.
During non-stressful times, we typically operate in a calm, open manner. Our bodies feel grounded. We are in a generally rhythmic pattern where we know what to expect, like our daily agenda, when we’ll eat, and when we’ll go to bed. We are connected with others. We are curious and playful. We are generally attuned to what we feel and what we need. This is the parasympathetic nervous system in effect, and the part of the brain activated is known as the ventral vagal response.
As we are wired for states of ease, we are also wired to detect threat. This is evolutionary and involuntary. Any perceived danger triggers a cascade of hormones and our sympathetic nervous system becomes activated, resulting in fight or flight. Our bodies may feel tense, shaky, agitated, or hyper. Our jaw is clenched, our shoulders scrunched. We might have gastrointestinal issues. Our heart rate and blood pressure spikes. We may breathe irregularly. We are responding to fear and our body is preparing us to become more efficient for survival.
The fight/flight response occurs in response to both physical and psychological threat and is incredibly important because it motivates action. It occurs in response to immediate threats, say a car accident, and chronic stress such as the fear of losing your job. In this state, certain parts of the brain go offline, primarily areas in our frontal lobe, which makes it very difficult to plan, hold perspective, make decisions, concentrate, and imagine the future. Some examples of fight/flight during this time could include losing your temper, mood swings, feeling frenzied, desperate and panicked, becoming restless around the home, noticing changes in your eating, sleeping and exercise behaviors, experiencing nightmares, biting your nails or picking your skin, body checking, smoking, seeking reassurance or withdrawing, and having trouble turning off the news.
At times, stress can be so extreme and/or chronic that our sympathetic nervous system is overwhelmed, and the dorsal vagal parasympathetic nervous system takes control. It is our failsafe survival mechanism and happens because fight/flight arousal is unsustainable for long periods of time. Consider this our “brake system” for when distress is unbearable to our physiology. When this occurs, our body feels collapsed, numb, or frozen. We feel dissociated and disconnected, perhaps staring off into space or finding it difficult to talk. It is hard to concentrate and make sense of things. We might feel trapped or hopeless. Movement feels arduous. We may appear calm because breathing and our bodies slow, but this is not a present, content, peaceful state. We are in a shocked shutdown mode.
This relates to our current plight because our sense of safety has been punctured. We do not know when things will get easier. We do not know if things could get worse. However, we do know that this time will pass. We are restructuring our lives and despite the hardships, there is hope, because we all have the capacity to live resiliently. There is opportunity to practice compassion, knowing that no one is free of suffering. This pandemic serves as a reminder that we are not separate from one another and that we are working on a roadmap together.
It is important to note that these states are instinctual and adaptive and that we can help ourselves shift out from fight/flight/immobilization. One of the primary ways is connection, to others and with our bodies. Reaching out is critical because positive connection can fundamentally change the way we experience and rebound from trauma. When we’re disconnected, we zoom in on our own struggles and miss out on critical empathic exchanges. Additionally, introducing intentional movement, such as breathing, walking, stretching, riding a bike, or swinging on your porch can provide physiological release or help shift you from an immobilized state.
Research also tells us that things such as creating safety, stabilization, processing what we feel with others, and integrating meaning help us cope with the impact of trauma. Here are some ideas:
Identify a space in your home, an item, or an activity that increases a sense of warmth and calm. This might be a favorite blanket in a comfortable chair, yoga, painting, lighting candles, playing music, or walks.
Devote time to activities that restore a sense of agency. This might be finishing a book you started, cleaning out your closet, or learning a new recipe. Choose things that you want to do, and not just things you believe you should do.
Create a schedule to build synchrony and context in your day. Creating predictability might be waking/sleeping regularly, incorporating a practice you do every day, and writing out your calendar, even if it just includes phone calls for the week.
Build bridges with people who will validate you. This means people who can help acknowledge what you feel and reinforce the belief in your ability to get through this. Think about who you can reach out to and set aside time to call, zoom, or text.
Acknowledge the impact of what you’re going through. Resiliency is not the absence of thoughts or feelings about a traumatic experience but being able to adapt and live with it in a way that isn’t in control of your life. Compassion and patience are paramount. An example might be accepting your stress and reframing that you are stressed because you care about people you love.
Finally, we begin to make meaning when we reflect on what can be learned, accept how our lives may be restructured, and weave events into our collective and personal narrative. This is not to suggest that we feel content about any of these changes. What it means is that we construct a story that recognizes the courage it takes to tolerate our sorrow, disappointment, and loss. That said, it’s okay to not have answers or to feel perplexed about what any of this means. We are all in the process of writing this script. However, part of developing agency is choosing your narrative. Consider what you want to remember about this experience.
I’ll end with a personal example. I hated telling my daughter that we had to cancel her birthday party with friends and that her grandparents could no longer visit. That’s a hard thing for a four-year-old to understand and it broke my heart and made me cry. My partner and I worked to make the day special and surprised her by decorating the entire house. We felt gratitude for the drive-by parade and FaceTime calls. We did her favorite things and at the end of the evening, she remembered feeling happy that lots of people sang to her and that she had a pink cake. I will remember making her smile.
-Dr. Jennifer Batson