COVID & Lessons in Resilience, 5 Years Later
I took this photo just before 8am on Thursday, March 19, 2020, outside of the Park Street train station in downtown Boston. Ordinarily, this area would have been jam-packed with foot traffic — and it had been, just one month prior.
“...We do not know how bad things will get, nor when recovery can truly begin. Individuals must grapple with intense direct exposure to cascading events (e.g., personal illness or loss, social isolation, economic loss, violent policing), with varying and sometimes conflicting policies dictating public response. Concurrently, these events have been broadcast in real time, as they unfolded, on traditional and social media, with individuals watching news coverage repeatedly and across multiple mediums, compounding their exposure. News has been almost entirely bad, with escalating intensity. The overlay of sensationalized media coverage in the context of repeated direct exposure to adversity is likely creating an additional crisis for public mental health...”
The year was 2020.
It seemed to start like any other, except for whispers of a growing outbreak circulating abroad. By March, Americans learned what that meant as COVID-19 arrived and our lives changed drastically.
Five years later, we find ourselves marking a half-decade since those initial shutdowns – a period that began with the World Health Organization's pandemic declaration on March 11th, the U.S. declaring a national emergency two days later, and the virus spreading rapidly across all 50 U.S. states by March 17th. I recall that week especially clearly; it was my last in-office.
For many, the initial shock wasn't from disease itself but the sudden and total disruption to our lives. Mask mandates, barren supermarkets, closed schools and offices, and empty streets became the norm for a time. Even those spared physical illness experienced a seismic shift. Life changed.
Now, 5 years on, the echoes of trauma, loss, and change persist. Despite our new “normal,” the pandemic has had a profound and lasting impact on our collective mental health.
Let's take a moment to observe those enduring effects now.
What happened over these last 5 years?
The pandemic touched every life, directly or indirectly, leaving a trail of tangible changes. We all witnessed a global health crisis unfold, a daily barrage of uncertainty, confusion, frustration, and fear. Amidst this, we saw the unwavering strength of our medical and essential workers, and the heartbreaking pain of exponential loss.
Here in Massachusetts, where my practice is based, we understand the weight of large-scale trauma. The Boston Marathon bombing and subsequent citywide lockdown 12 years ago serve as a stark reminder. Before that, the nation as a whole grappled with the 9/11 attacks. Indeed, many communities worldwide have faced such events requiring immense grit in the face of adversity.
But COVID’s global reach and intensity have been unparalleled. 5 whole years have lapsed, yet heightened anxiety, depression, PTSD, and suffering remain. This begs the question: why? What really happened?
We lived through what’s known as “collective trauma.”
This describes psychological suffering and trauma from large-scale disasters affecting several communities — in our case, the pandemic.
The extent of traumatic suffering depends on:
how long the event lasts,
how broadly the event affects individual intersections of identity (race, culture, religion, socioeconomic status, etc.), and
how severely the event impacts communities and subgroups (such as those divided by generation, nationality, or politics).
What’s unique about collective trauma from COVID-19?
This specific trauma has not only been collective, but also chronic and cascading.
Cascading how?
For the first time in history, all 50 states declared federal disaster by mid-April 2020.
The Black Lives Matter movement reignited existing racial tensions in May 2020.
School closures created achievement gaps, particularly in areas with socioeconomic disparities.
Supply chain disruptions and economic policies drove inflation and market instability.
The outcome has been broken trust in both government and public health, fueling nationalism, social divides, and anti-science movements (with already tragic & worrisome results).
Chronic how?
Millions in the U.S. have been left with long-COVID.
Many lost loved ones, relationships, legacies. We all lost important milestones and time.
Some pre-pandemic activities (like movie theater attendance & downtown foot-traffic) still haven’t recovered.
The pandemic’s physical and emotional impacts are ongoing, but the tragedy is also a social one. There is no endpoint. The American Medical Association acknowledged this back in February 2023, nearly 3 years post-outbreak. Where are we, 2 years beyond that? Without even a memorial or a day to acknowledge this experience.
By definition, no one escapes collective trauma. The pandemic's impact was real, and its mental health consequences continue to extend far beyond the initial lockdowns. It’s important to acknowledge that now.
What are the mental health consequences?
In my practice, several common trends have emerged (in no particular order):
Social anxiety: Re-entry remains difficult due to prolonged isolation and work-from-home culture. Overwhelm has been particularly common among my college-aged and introverted adult clients.
Grief: I’ve already mentioned the immeasurable loss of life, routines, and stability. Unresolved grief threatens our sense of security. Grief’s unique and often lonely nature compounds this further.
Depression: Elevated rates of heavy drinking, the “loneliness epidemic,” and persistent economic malaise point to widespread mood dysfunctions. Unchecked, that can lead to shame and self-stigma.
PTSD: Some say “COVID will never be over,” because closure is out of reach. Uncertainty, infection, even vaccines may be triggering for those who lost loved ones, who are immunocompromised, or who confronted the pandemic daily as essential workers.
**Childhood impacts: While I don’t directly work with this population, it’s worth noting that children and adolescents face special challenges given extreme disruptions to their education and social development during formative years that cannot be reclaimed.
Considering these psychological challenges, how have we managed to move forward?
Resilience is the answer.
Note:
Resilience is
That said, there is no singular "right" way to build resilience, because success is defined differently by individuals and their societies.
Despite the pandemic’s hardships, we also witnessed extraordinary acts of kindness, generosity and empathy.
We adapted as a world, innovated where possible, and found new ways to connect. We learned the vital importance of both self-care and community support. Effective coping strategies and newfound inner strength were forged along the way, leading to post-traumatic growth — a process that continues to this day.
All of these comprise RESILIENCE, which is the act of ‘bouncing back’ in the face of adversity, and successfully adapting to ever-changing circumstances no matter what they may be.
What are the key components of resilience?
Resilience DOES NOT mean never feeling challenged by life changes ever again. Nor does it mean avoiding stress or emotional pain, both of which are facts of life.
Resilience DOES mean intentionally doing things to help yourself navigate life changes without succumbing to suffering. Resilience helps to separate pain and suffering.
Resilience can be broken down into 4 important elements:
Wellness. Managing physical and mental stress helps make room for us to then deal with emotional stress, without excess suffering.
Healthy thinking. Perspective-taking, acceptance, gratitude, and mindful self-reflection allow us to find strengths and (sometimes creative!) opportunities beyond suffering.
Healthy connection. Finding and prioritizing safe relationships develops our sense of community, shared meaning, and support through suffering.
Purpose. Setting intentional goals sets us up to pursue authenticity, self-actualization, post-traumatic growth, and meaning despite suffering.
Here’s a poem titled “My new un-normal” by a person named Jo House, “who has had long COVID since March 2020, poem written when 6 months in. First poem written since a child. Still have long COVID at 18 months.”
Survived, but just surviving.
Better, but not better.
Alive, but missing.
Learning to breathe again, learning to just breathe.
Watching leaves, watching screens.
Bird song, meditation gong.
Dressing up, living in pyjamas.
Re-connecting with old friends, making new covid friends.
Online zooms in party rooms, garden face to face at a distance that is safe.
Parents sleeping, kids cooking, roles reversed for better or worse.
Not knowing, [nobody knows].
Trying…, accepting help.
Heart skipping for all the wrong reasons.
Pain, more pain, foggy brain.
Sweats and chills, popping pills.
Appointments, disappointments.
Swimming again, crashing again, swimming again because the joy of water is worth the crash.
Not sleeping, then sleeping but still needing to sleep.
Exhausted by the exhaustion.
Prioritising, letting go.
Overwhelmed, supported.
Frustrated, thankful.
Not really a new normal, a new un-normal.
Survived, but just surviving. Better, but not better. Alive, but missing. Learning to breathe again, learning to just breathe. Watching leaves, watching screens. Bird song, meditation gong. Dressing up, living in pyjamas. Re-connecting with old friends, making new covid friends. Online zooms in party rooms, garden face to face at a distance that is safe. Parents sleeping, kids cooking, roles reversed for better or worse. Not knowing, [nobody knows]. Trying…, accepting help. Heart skipping for all the wrong reasons. Pain, more pain, foggy brain. Sweats and chills, popping pills. Appointments, disappointments. Swimming again, crashing again, swimming again because the joy of water is worth the crash. Not sleeping, then sleeping but still needing to sleep. Exhausted by the exhaustion. Prioritising, letting go. Overwhelmed, supported. Frustrated, thankful. Not really a new normal, a new un-normal.
Over the past 5 years, I’ve likewise seen my own clients exercise resilience in their own unique ways. But, as mentioned before, the pandemic’s mental health effects persist. It remains crucial that we prioritize our wellbeing and support one another as best we can.
Tips to build resilience:
Research indicates that resilience is influenced by numerous factors including a person’s worldview, access to social resources, and proficiency with coping strategies, among others. Intentional goal-setting and goal-seeking further empower us to move forward and find meaning beyond trauma. All of these contribute to mental, emotional, and behavioral adaptability.
If you’re interested in becoming more resilient, consider a few simple practices to start:
Engage in self-care: Do things for yourself that promote relaxation, mindfulness, emotional regulation, and general wellbeing.
Cultivate compassion: Be kind to yourself and others. Practice empathy and non-judgmental self-talk. Acknowledge that healing takes time.
Connect with your community: Don’t neglect your social life. Find people who nurture you, and nurture your own safe supports.
Above all, let’s remember our collective strength as we approach this major milestone. The pandemic has had undeniable impacts, but an invaluable lesson to take away from this is that we all possess the power to heal and to grow. That journey begins with a conscious commitment to prioritizing mental health, fostering compassion, and strengthening the bonds of our communities.
Take a moment to reflect on how these past 5 years have shaped you, and what steps you can take today to continue honoring your wellbeing.
It might not be long-Covid, but We are all healing from something, and you are not alone.
Together, we can build resilience, find meaning, and move forward.
If you find yourself struggling with resilience practices and you’d like to speak to a professional, I invite you to reach out to schedule a complimentary phone consultation. I am proud to be a COVID Conscious therapist. The foundation of my work with clients is fundamentally rooted in resilience-building, and I enjoy working collaboratively no matter the challenge.
Disclaimer: This blog is intended for informational purposes only, and does not constitute medical or psychiatric advice. Please consult with a qualified healthcare professional directly for personalized guidance and support.