Mental and Emotional Pandemic Recovery
This week brings a new change in the adjustment for all of us, as some places start opening up and others remain closed. The politics are intense, and there is increasing drama between those who “vote” one way or the other. The stakes feel high, as people fight for life and for liberty.
But the hardest part may be that everyone’s experience changes now, whether you are ready or not, and that’s actually a whole new trauma.
Let me explain, expanding on my last article about the neuroscience behind trauma responses people experienced during quarantine.
One of the things that most strengthened us throughout the pandemic was how it brought us together. While we were left alone in our homes and isolated from each other physically, collectively we connected in new ways like never before. It was a beautiful phenomena that unfolded against the backdrop of a virus that left people sick alone, dying alone, and grieving alone.
Drive-by food drives. Music from balconies. Technology that kept us connected.
Zeaster, Zeders, and Zamadan gathering faith communities in new ways.
Artists and teachers and healers restored as our most valued.
Earth renewed in the skies and in the seas.
These were the beautiful experiences we shared, that made us smile again, that reminded us we are better together.
That’s attunement. Attunement is when we are in sync with one another. Attunement is when we feel seen and heard and not alone - even comforted. Attunement is when our emotional needs are noticed, reflected, and met. Attunement helps us feel safe, which helps us climb up that polyvagal ladder and maintain healthy functioning.
It was attunement that got us through the adjustment of stay-at-home orders, despite it being dysregulated because of the disruption in schedules, impact on finances, and separation of family and friends. Adjusting was hard. Not knowing was scary. Waiting was excruciating.
But we were in this together. We were not alone, even though we were. The shared experience provided an emotional solidarity that held us together. That’s attunement.
And now, just like entering our time of quarantine, leaving it comes with unanswered questions about the future and fears about our health.
The difference is that coming out of our sheltered places breaks the spell of attunement and confronts us with what we knew all along: that not everyone had the same experience.
Some people got sick, and some people didn’t. Some people don’t know anyone who got sick, and others grieved alone when funeral homes couldn’t open to the public. Some people went into this healthy and are coming out of it just fine while others still can’t leave their homes because of medically fragile loved ones.
Some people enjoyed the time off work, and others were in financial desperation because of it.
Some people had the privileges of technology and educational experience enough for the capacity to continue work or school from home, while others struggled or were left out all together.
Some people had nice homes with big yards were fairly comfortable, while others were in too small spaces that were not always safe.
Some people had the resources to retreat from the cities to second homes in the country, and others were confined in prisons or shelters or refugee camps and had no way to escape.
Some people hoarded toilet paper while others went hungry.
Some people gained weight because of trying to cope, some people lost weight because of trying to cope, and some people weigh what they do because they have to eat what they are given.
Some people enjoyed the chaos and overstimulation of being cooped up with their families, and others were seriously overwhelmed by it.
Some people were glad they were alone for quarantine, and others were in crisis before it was over.
Some people followed stay-at-home orders strictly, while others “cheated” and met together anyway.
Everyone’s experience was different. We can understand that, cognitively, even if it is unsettling emotionally. Most people have done the best with what they could, and that’s part of what made the pandemic awe-inspiring as we tried, together. We can shelter-in-that-space, attuned together.
But there were also some very real wounds in some of these differences. Some of these were betrayals, and escalated as things progressed. Hoarding turned into price-gouging. That turned into bullies withholding medical equipment, which escalated into actual thievery with the stealing of protective equipment and ventilators.
These were relational traumas, betrayal traumas, and institutional traumas.
Yet still, we tried to hold things together by fighting back with good. We shared food. We organized supplies. We sewed masks, 3D-printed visors with lasers, and password protected against online invasions into our children’ classrooms.
Because attunement made us healthy and strong, we could adapt and help each other get through a very difficult experience.
It was a fascinating thing, watching the world come together even as we were kept apart.
But we must be careful not to lose each other just as we are brought together again.
The challenge is misattunement. This happens when our needs are not noticed, reflected, or met, and when we do not notice, reflect, and meet the needs of others around us. Misattunement makes everything harder, turning our efforts at coping into maladaptive behaviors. It isolates us from each other, no matter how close we can finally be, and it becomes easier to neglect or even dismiss each other, even without intending to do so.
If you are still in quarantine and have run out of videos to stream, look up on YouTube the “Still Face Experiment“. It's an old school psych video about attunement. In the video, a mother and baby are playing. The mother has good eye contact, mirrors the faces the baby is making, and they are touching with their hands.... that's all "attunement".
But then, as part of the experiment, the mother looks away and puts her hands down. Then she turns back to the baby with a flat affect and doesn't make any expressions at all. The baby does three things:
First, the baby tries hard to touch and reach and make the same sounds and faces they were just doing that was so happy for them both.
When that doesn't work, the baby gets angry and tries to push the mother away, because what is happening is so unpleasant.
When she won't go away, but still isn't tuned in, the baby can only resolve the misattunement by matching her, which she does by physically turning away and also making a flat face without expression.
The baby is very distressed, and it is very sad to watch.
For the sake of the baby, at the end of the experiment, the mother does "repair" the misattunement by turning back to the baby and reengaging, so you can feel the relief and the baby is okay.
The thing is, that we still act out these things as grownups. Those are the same polyvagal ladder responses as I wrote about in the other article. When we sense misattunement, we do all the same behaviors as the baby tries.
First, we try what has always worked. We return to our default coping skills. Whatever we used when life was hard before the pandemic, we will fall back into again. Being too busy in order to avoid feeling our emotions. Drinking alcohol to numb our thoughts and feelings. Using relationships to escape the work our soul is urging us to do. These are all “flight” responses.
When these fail us and complicate our lives with additional problems, we drop down the ladder and “fight”. We work even harder. We drink even more. We push even our friends away, just like the baby with her mother who must-not-be her mother because she isn’t responding as a mother should respond.
And when things don’t feel right, when things don’t feel safe, when people don’t feel understood or helped, or comforted, they shut down. They stop trying. They let go. They dissociate.
This doesn’t happen because they gave up. This doesn’t happen because they failed. This doesn’t happen because they did anything wrong.
It happens because of misattunement.
And the brain detects misattunement at a level that isn’t even conscious.
It’s called neuroception. This happens at a neurological level, before perceptive awareness even happens. It’s why the hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you see the scary person who just walked into the room. It’s why your skin tingles when something amazing happens. It’s why your heart skips a beat when you fall in love.
It’s how a flat affect looks angry, even when the person isn’t. It why an empty interaction or no-response feels like abandonment or rejection. It’s also why people with trauma histories read “neutral” as “dangerous” even when it’s not.
It’s why short-term cognitive behavioral therapy can’t fix trauma, and why just being aware of triggers isn’t enough to make them go away.
It’s why therapists and patients are literally exhausted by video sessions, where the brain can sense the digital transmission format in ways we aren’t aware, and is overworking itself to alert us to danger because of the incongruence of the experience.
Now, in a season of people leaving quarantine, people will be sensitive to misattunement as we share differences in our pandemic experiences and re-enter such a volatile political climate. Some cannot wait to escape, and are frustrated by the slow process. Others are still too anxious to leave home, and will need more time to feel safe. Some do not have a choice. Clashing one against the other doesn’t help either group.
Some people will jump back into work and their previous routines, abandoning people they have reconnected with virtually and leave them scrambling. Others do not have the skills to re-engage socially, having regressed while coping in quarantine. Some will dissociate, not just from the pandemic experience, but from their lives as they were before.
It doesn’t help to tell someone all the ways they can fix their problem when what they want is someone to be there while they struggle.
It doesn’t help to tell someone to cheer up when what they need is someone present in their sadness.
It doesn’t help to tell someone to be strong when they are being brave enough to express vulnerability.
All of those things are misattunement. They are ways we push away the problems of others because we feel overwhelmed by our own. They are ways we try to make ourselves feel better by solving what others struggle with or reason out what we don’t want to feel. They are ways of protecting ourselves by dismissing problems in our heads, instead of connecting with others through our hearts.
Everyone will be neurologically sensitive to the changed behaviors: pretending to be brave against a virus we can’t see and takes a week or two to notice; hesitancy to touch when before handshakes and hugs were greetings; the avoidance on trails we used to share.
The more we ignore this, the more it will traumatize all of us.
The more we notice it, and talk about it, and connect through it, the more healing it can bring.
Remember that when you still feel tired and don’t know why.
Remember that when you see custodians pushing carts while people stand outside clapping for nurses.
Remember that when you see respiratory therapists caring for lungs while planes fly overhead for doctors.
Remember that when you read about chaplains standing with the dead.
See everyone. Don’t let anyone be forgotten. Presence matters.
Eye-contact, when culturally appropriate, is important. Respecting when it’s not, also important.
Smiling saves lives, literally.
Be gentle in sharing your quarantine experiences. Be sensitive to others who experienced it differently. Make a difference by attuning with those around you and continuing to be stronger together, no matter how far apart we are. This is how we can offer repair and attunement to those around us, and open up ourselves to receive it as well. It is connection that brings healing.