The Psychological Toll of the Delta Variant: How to Cope

After a lovely spring and summer of hope, an all-too-brief and momentary glimpse at a somewhat compromised but still optimistic return to normalcy, it all came crashing down in the past few weeks with the cruel arrival of the Delta variant to U.S. shores. The most difficult part has been the growing realization and data that vaccines do not fully protect against it (although thank goodness, at least against the most severe and deadly forms of it). Given the large swaths of as-yet-unvaccinated people (particularly younger children and the immunocompromised), this data means even the vaccinated have to mask up and be cautious again.

With an already weary and traumatic 2020 behind us, this news has been a kind of breaking point for many of us. It coincides also with the already anxiety-ridden return to schools for children and other reopenings. The general vibe is one of revisited horror and fatigue, of one’s worst post-traumatic fear, that the trauma will and has returned again. It isn’t unlike a nightmare where one thought one had finally awakened but is still back inside the nightmare.

Stress and anger are everywhere. Rage has grown against those who have chosen not to wear a mask or get vaccinated despite science and experts saying both are not only safe but necessary at this point to protect all of us. The anger is just as high among those who refuse to heed current public health messaging. Drug overdoses and suicides both continue to climb at unprecedented rates.

One particular group seems to be unraveling the most: parents. Parents have been asked to shoulder impossible burdens between work and childcare during this pandemic and are now having to make the choice between sending their kids back to a potential Covid minefield at school or keeping them at home when there are concerns about how virtual learning will affect children socially and developmentally. There are also ongoing pressures with maintaining other work and tasks or even just finding free time to pause and breathe. While children are not previously known to be as high risk as unvaccinated adults for severe cases of Covid, the increased virulence of the delta variant may put that previous data to a painful new test that no parent really wants to experiment with. The seemingly agonizingly slow process of getting a vaccine approval for the youngest children has become tauntingly cruel in the face of this new Delta onslaught.

What can we do to cope with the Delta variant and maintain our mental health?

First, it’s important to acknowledge and give voice to this feeling and realize that in and of itself, our anxiety and sadness are normal. No one is alone right now in facing the trials and tribulations of this pandemic. Everyone I have seen, among friends and even social media, is expressing to various degrees a sense of helplessness and despair in the past couple of weeks. It’s fine to just take a break, scream into a pillow, watch trashy shows, whatever it takes to say, "I’m not OK, but that’s OK to admit that right now." We need to allow ourselves to mourn again.

While anger at others is understandable right now, it may ultimately be less stressful to step back and view everyone as part of the same family of sufferers, who all need some grace and understanding right now. There’s certainly no need to attack someone directly or abusively who is trying their best at understaffed restaurants or small businesses, or towards the folks who remain unvaccinated and need convincing. It is reasonable though to direct some of our energy towards ensuring public health and government officials maintain our safety and listen to epidemiological and medical expertise instead of cynical, politically driven decisions. Ultimately consistent, well-informed regulations and positive messaging appear to be the best way to improve the bad trends right now.

We need to remind and praise ourselves for surviving to this point, even when there was no vaccine (while acknowledging the tragic loss of millions of people already). We need to remember that we now generally know what to do and have learned how to manage our safety during these pandemic times, even if it isn’t foolproof or guaranteed, and some risk remains. We also need to remember the old and new coping skills we turned to and can still enjoy, such as domestic hobbies and nature walks. If vaccinated and masked, we can still do many of our previous activities within reason.

We are not at the point of total normalcy and have to take some familiar (and exhausting) precautions again. I still miss crowded indoor concert halls and chatting loudly at packed restaurants. I have to hit pause on some of that again, but can try some compromises instead and shift gears. It’s okay to mourn and important to process these changes. For the things we cannot control or change right now, we need to pause and make the best choices we can and to trust our ability to review information and expertise as it comes along. For now, we can focus on what we can do, and realize life is still much better in some ways than it was before the vaccine.

We are doing the best we can to muddle along in a stream of confusing and contradictory information and varying sensations of danger and desperation. We are realizing now that this pandemic story does not have a simple and pat ending, that it is continuing to write itself, for better or worse. Sadly, it will be a longer and more difficult story than initially hoped for. For now, the unwanted sequel of Delta is here…but usually the hero keeps fighting back, time and time again if needed. We can do this.