We endured 12 days of life-threatening turmoil, an intensity of crisis our nation and we as individuals had never before faced. Then, in the blink of an eye, the world demanded we return to ‘normal.’ One moment, we were governed by fear, afraid to let our children play outside and strategically timing our most basic errands to avoid missile attacks. The next, schools were opening their doors, planes were in the sky, and the familiar hustle and bustle returned to coffee shops. This whiplash-inducing, 180-degree change is, without a doubt, a heavy burden for us all to bear.
But it’s strange, isn’t it? While the chaos was unfolding, all we wanted was to get back to our normal routines. So why does this demand to ‘go back to normal’ leave so many of us feeling confused and frustrated? It seems the return to the familiar rhythms of daily life after a period of intense crisis, like war, isn’t the comfortable journey we imagined. Instead, it’s difficult and jarring. So, what’s really going on here? And how can we cope with this sudden shift when we’re still feeling the aftershocks of what we’ve been through?
Let’s break down why this is happening. Understanding the ‘why’ is the first step toward accepting the situation and being kinder to ourselves. I will also provide practical tools to help you better navigate this extreme transition.
Why is the emotional whiplash happening?
The human brain is a remarkable organ of adaptation. During a crisis, it shifts into survival mode. Our senses are heightened, our focus narrows to immediate threats, and our bodies are flooded with stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. We become accustomed to a state of high alert, a “new normal” where the unpredictable is the only thing we can count on.
When the external crisis subsides, our internal alarm systems don’t simply switch off. The abrupt absence of a clear and present danger can leave a void, a sudden silence that can be more deafening than the chaos it replaced. This is because our nervous systems, conditioned for a high-stakes environment, can perceive the return to mundane routines as a different kind of threat – the threat of letting our guard down. The familiar world, once a source of comfort, can suddenly feel alien and fraught with a different kind of anxiety.
The experience of soldiers returning from a war zone offers a poignant example. They leave a world of intense camaraderie, clear purpose, and shared struggle, and are thrust back into a society that may not understand their experiences. The loss of this tight-knit social fabric, coupled with the need to suddenly juggle the complexities of civilian life—bills, work, family dynamics—can be overwhelming. The very structure and routine that once defined “normal” can now feel like a cage, a stark contrast to the life-and-death clarity of their recent past.
This struggle isn’t limited to those who have been in direct combat. Entire communities living through periods of conflict adapt to a state of constant vigilance. The sound of a siren, the news of distant – or very near – explosions, the worry for loved ones, the lack of sleep and always being on high alert– these become the grim metronome of daily life. When peace or a semblance of normalcy returns, the learned behaviors of survival don’t just vanish. A sudden loud noise can still trigger a racing heart; a sense of unease can linger in once-joyful public spaces.
To understand what’s happening to us, picture this: a race car has been speeding down a track at 200 km/h for hours. If it’s forced to slam on the brakes at the finish line, what happens? You get screeching tires, overheating brakes, and passengers jolted violently—a body still reacting to immense energy. On the other hand, if the driver starts to decelerate gradually long before that same finish line, the stop is gentle and controlled.
We are that car. Our minds and bodies have been racing in a state of high alert. We can’t be expected to come to a sudden halt without feeling the violent whiplash. We need time to slow down, to process, and to ease into this new reality. Let’s look at a few tips to help you do just that
