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Getting Back to ‘Normal’ May Not Be So Easy. Crisis Experts Can Help.

What we can learn from war-zone and trauma experts about easing out of lockdown.

A group of friends plays dominoes in the picnic area of Orchard Beach.Credit...James Estrin/The New York Times

After 80 days of lockdown, my husband and I yearned for company. Since New York City is slowly easing restrictions, we decided to ask friends for a socially distanced lunch. I planned the social experiment with the precision I do when reporting in war zones.

We would invite only two people, for just two hours. We would choose only those we knew had been strict quarantineers and had gotten coronavirus tests. We would insist on face covers and a checklist of taboos that included touching your dinnerware but nothing else. We’d convene in the garden out back, with no lingering inside.

After tallying these rigid ground rules, we actually found a couple willing to endure the constraints. I looked forward to a relaxing reunion.

Instead I was on guard the whole time. It’s hard to police friends, and folks get sloppy when they’re happy to see each other. Everyone violated the six-foot decree. Masks slipped down. Someone touched the salad bowl without gloves. They both asked to use the bathroom.

Our encounter brought home to me how stressful this transition period, when we’re not fully taking refuge but still in danger of exposure, will be. The lockdown cave had its lonely challenges, but we were safe inside. In the cocoon, we did not go in and out of high alert in an ambiguous situation.

Now, as we venture outside with a mix of masked and unmasked faces, emerging feels like a Wild West of germs. We’re making up rules as we go along. After finally getting used to confinement, I find myself on edge figuring out how to behave with less restraints.

The assessment process of “what risks do I take?” reminds me of what I’ve done in 30 years of covering conflicts in war zones around the globe and teaching seminars for journalists to protect themselves. Except now we’re dodging pedestrians instead of land mines. I find myself constantly assessing how to avoid those cigar smokers on the corner, how to get to the deli when it’s empty, whether I can trust my own closest friends to wipe the bathroom faucets after use.

Having adjusted to lockdown, we’re stretching the emotional rubber band by loosening limitations. We don’t have a clear picture of how the new-new normal will play out. We might have to withdraw again with a new viral surge.

Humans can take only so much change.

“We are adaptable, but we’re also a little rigid,” says Gil Reyes, a clinician from Santa Barbara, Calif., who specializes in the psychology of violent and destructive events. “You want things to be the way they were before. Anything that takes us out of the known way to do things is a stressor.”

Further strain comes from the sheer number of calculations one must make when venturing out. We have so many choices at every moment of potential exposure.

“It’s exhausting,” agrees Elana Newman, an expert on psychological trauma who teaches at the University of Tulsa. “In the absence of any certainty, every person has to make a cost-benefit about every activity they engage in. Is this a high-risk or a low-risk action? Is it worth it to me?”

Anxiety about this gamble is particularly severe for those who are already hard hit by grief and financial loss, or do essential work that requires exposure, says Elissa Epel, vice chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco

“Feeling safe is key to recovery from trauma and avoiding long-term mental health consequences like PTSD,” she says. That’s hard to achieve when people lack physical safety as well as the security that they are bonded with others around them who are taking the same precautions.

But there are ways to navigate this jarring new situation. Here’s the advice that these experts gave, corroborated by my years of crisis reporting and by living through this pandemic.

Accept. In order to keep the blood pressure down, try to embrace a Zen acceptance that life is not risk-free, says Dr. Epel. Breathe deeply. You can’t control reckless behavior by others but you can control your responses. “Exercise compassion toward their different worldview,” she says. “Maybe they’re giving haircuts too early because of financial need. Maybe they truly believe the virus is a hoax.” Fuming that they aren’t complying with safety regulations will only make you feel worse.

Seek support. Surround yourself with people who make you feel supported and positive. “Social connection is the biggest factor shoring up emotional resilience,” says Jack Saul, a psychologist and leading expert on collective trauma and healing. “Recovery comes when people connect with other people and talk about what they’ve been through and feel supported.”

Take it slow. Move outward slowly. “Don’t jump into the hustle and bustle all at once,” says Dr. Reyes. Perhaps start with a socially distanced walk. Graduate to a backyard gathering with a couple of people you trust. Make clear that safety rules are for their protection as well as yours. And continue with the hand-washing, distancing and face coverings. That much you can control.

Be clear. You have a right to set conditions in your house. Don’t feel shy reminding visitors, politely, if they’ve lapsed. It’s your home.

Practice makes perfect. This new modus operandi will be taxing at first, but after some practice it will begin to feel automatic. I find that when I first get to a dangerous country, I’m self-regulating at 100 percent. After a while I go into automatic pilot and it becomes rote to know what to look for and how to react. I identify patterns: This street is particularly problematic, that person is too reckless. We simply need time to find our footing.

Assess and debrief. Think of the first encounters as dress rehearsals. After the experimental lunch, I sat down and analyzed what worked and what didn’t. I came up with a plan. Next time I’ll hand out gloves and disposable spoons at the door. I’ll place disinfectant with a sign in the bathroom. I’ll chalk the table with six-foot marks.

And I’ll feel more at ease being prepared.

Judith Matloff teaches crisis reporting at Columbia’s Graduate School of Journalism. She just published a manual for hazards, “How to Drag a Body and Other Safety Tips You Hope to Never Need.

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