It's taken me two and a bit years, but just as Omicron is on the rise, I'll admit it — I've finally become a "covidiot"; a person who takes unnecessary risks that increase their risk of catching COVID-19.
Just a few days later, we ate McDonald's. Outside, yes, but after standing in a queue of people who definitely weren't social-distancing for at least 20 minutes. We've also been to the grocery store way more often than was technically necessary, and we're about to finally resume socializing with friends in-person.
We were among the first to adopt COVID-mitigation measures like frequent hand washing, face masks, not touching our faces with dirty hands, and ceasing to socialize with people or go out much at all, for that matter. I did these things religiously from the start, because I valued my life and the lives of my fellow humans.
What changed? COVID no longer seems like the biggest threat. I'm not OK, and I feel like if I don't give myself the gift of actual contact with other people, I'll go insane. If I keep isolating, I have a bigger chance of staying alive — but not a life worth living.
That made me wonder. How long can people keep up the act of living through a crisis before they begin to normalize the situation — or before they break?
'Crisis Mode: Immediate Psychological Responses to Emergency Situations
According to UNICEF, brains that enter crisis mode "instinctively reduce higher functioning that allows us to do long term planning, and instead shift [...] to a primal, more immediate threat response". Our higher reasoning powers shut down, in other words, and the animal instinct kicks in.
This crisis mode, in turn, causes human beings to respond in several ways:
- Being unable to process too much new information, we tend to oversimplify the situation. That can mean denying the presence of a threat, or exaggerating the threat.
- We seek solace in established beliefs — one of the reasons it's so hard to change people's minds in times of crisis.
- We seek information, and may act quickly to minimize the danger.
- After the initial shock wanes, we are overcome by unpleasant and existentially-threatening feelings like fear, anxiety, and dread. We still have some fight left in us, so we may overreact.
- After that stage, the despair, hopelessness, and helplessness set in. We feel like we can't do anything to change the situation.
- We may also look for a scapegoat, stigmatize others, and lash out.
How Long Does it Take to 'Get Used to" a Crisis?
A crisis is, by definition, a short period of time — if it persists, it simply becomes a way of life, and we stop calling it a crisis. Anyone who gew up during the Cold War, for instance, is unlikely to have considered it anything but normal, and was unlikely to have held out hopes that it would end (and peacefully at that).
I've been unable to locate information about the time required to psychologically become desensitized to a crisis (such as war, a serious medical condition, or a pandemic). Research has shown that it takes anywhere from 18 to 254 days to successfully form a new habit, however. If you apply this same principle to a crisis situation, that's how long it might take someone to either accept the new normal, or to reject it.
In the presence of a threat like COVID-19, that could mean two radically opposing things, as well as stances that fall anywhere in the middle:
- "I wouldn't leave my home without a mask anymore than I'd forget to wear underpants" vs "F*** masks. I want my life back."
- "Slack and Zoom are my office now" vs "IF I HAVE TO ATTEND ANOTHER VIRTUAL MEETING I'LL GO INSANE".
- "I actually prefer staying in and having a beer with my husband now" vs "Hello, neighborhood bar!"
- "Of course I'm gonna disinfect all my groceries, and change out of my clothes as soon as I come home", vs "Cinema nachos with unwashed hands? Yes, please!"
The risks we are comfortable with will depend on a number of things, including if we're medically vulnerable, if those we want to interact with are, and if we've managed to get our booster shots.
The fact remains, however, that the acute crisis is over. There is now a scientific consensus that COVID is indeed here to stay, and we have to adapt, rather than hold out hopes that things will return to the way they were. Indeed, further mutations are bound to keep on occurring, and more lives will be lost. For some, that might mean a life largely spent in isolation. For others, it means accepting some risks. How do you decide what you are comfortable with?
COVID vs Mental Health: Which Wins?
Humans are hard-wired to crave connection with others, and more so during a crisis. We need social support, friendship, and collaboration to thrive. There comes a time at which self-imposed isolation becomes too much to handle, and we feel an unstoppable drive to be part of humanity again.
Mine wasn't one thing, but a bunch of little ones. The tipping point? New neighbors I could only describe as "neighbors from hell" that made the haven of a home I'd created since the start of the pandemic one in which I could no longer find peace. It was a question of putting up with the neighbors at all hours, or going outside to find some peace. We'd seen every Spider-Man movie premier before this one, and missing out on the new one already hurt, but I was going to put up with it. When having to decide between neighbors driving me insane (to the point, I might add, of not being able to focus on work or having an online meeting) and exposing myself to COVID for a few hours to see Spidey in action, I chose Spidey.
Sounds stupid, but yes, that's how I became the covidiot I'd swear I'd never be. I do have three Pfizer shots under my belt, I'll add, but in the face of Omicron, I know I've placed myself at risk anyway. We all have our limits, it turns out, and I've reached mine.
How do you balance your mental and physical health needs in these strange time?
Your thoughts on this