As I had just put the finishing touches on the first draft of my now irrelevant column, we, like the rest of the country, got that “extreme alert.” This abrupt wakeup at three o’clock in the morning told us in no uncertain terms, and initially without any real information, to proceed to our safe space – now.
It worked. If the goal was to immediately get the attention of the entire nation, it worked. Once I arrived, and still half asleep yet feeling quite jarred, my husband and I looked at each other confused, neither one of us remembering any advance warning. That was June 13, or 6-13 for those of us who like symbolism. Friday the 13th for anyone superstitious, the beginning of our war with Iran.
Once we heard that Israel had taken this initial step and had attacked Iran, we felt empowered and even better. But that was followed by the message that missiles were soon going to be heading in our direction.
We, like many others, went into action – adding to the existing supplies that we had allowed to diminish, having previously had only short stints in our protected space. Yes, now wide awake, we were collecting food, water, medications, phone chargers, paper and pen, wallet, flashlight, clothes, and anything else deemed important in case the stay was longer than the 10 minutes we had become accustomed to.
Having not yet returned to bed, the sirens began. We were told not to come out until the authorities declared it safe. That happened more than an hour later. The night felt eerily like those days when I had a newborn. Awakened by an urgent call every few hours, back to bed, and awakened again as soon as I was in a deep sleep.
The rest is history. As I write this, we are waiting for tonight’s volley. We are prepared physically but never feel fully prepared emotionally, as we anticipate that long and noisy night ahead of “here we go again.”
This past Shabbat morning, when I discovered I had actually slept in my own bed for a few hours, I turned to my husband with a sigh of relief and said, “We made it. We survived. We need to pat ourselves on the back because we not only survived, but we also thrived.” We did quite okay in spite of sirens and booms, sleep disruption, and more.
After starting off with the “Modeh Ani” (thankful am I) prayer, I said out loud five things that I was grateful for. At that moment, I was very appreciative. Were they silly? Perhaps. (1) We and our home remained safe. (2) We had a rushed dinner in the dining room, and we managed to completely clean up before the siren. (3) We sang in the safe room between sirens. (4) We got some reading done. (5) We managed to get at least some sleep.
We almost felt exhilarated. I’ll take that feeling any day, given that we had no idea what to expect.
How did you do, and how are you doing now?
Sadly, we have seen horrible destruction, resulting in casualties and deaths. What we had hoped would be short-lived may further exhaust our already fatigued nation. That said, we must be strong. We will persevere and get through. And we will do so with the spirit like that of no other country in the world.
We have shown our incredible resilience in the past and continue to do so now. United, we have the strength of a lion as we fight for our very survival. Like during COVID when we went out less, saw fewer people, and stayed close to home, we have learned that we benefit greatly by staying connected and being there for one another.
What can you do to take care of yourself?
Start your day in a calm way. Express your gratitude with appreciation for at least five things that happened in the past 24 hours.
Breathe. Slowly inhale through your nose, then breathe out slowly, slowly, slowly – a small breath through your mouth as if it’s going down through your body and out through your toes.
Look around you and recognize that in this moment, you are okay. From your head down to your toes, allow yourself to scan your body by noticing that each body part is okay and that you are okay.
Take another minute to find a calm part on your body and rest your hand there. I like the area just below my neck. My chest. Resting my hand there feels like a gentle and supportive hug. It is calming. Try it.
Now as you read the suggestions below, add your own coping strategies as well.
Given how we are all quite exhausted at this moment, take breaks from the news. Constant doom scrolling will not give you peace and calm. The photos and videos will not help you relax – and if you are constantly being awakened, they will make it harder for you to go to sleep. Turn off your phone at meals, before bed, and other family times. I promise, you will hear alerts and anything important.
Find healthy distractions. Be intentional with how you choose to spend your time. Try to get some work done, clean, do some handiwork, cook with the kids, paint, or explore other projects that might allow you to feel more settled and reduce your stress level.
Despite your fatigue, you probably have excess nervous energy. Put on a workout video and move. Exercise is a great family activity and helpful for your kids in between Zoom class sessions.
LIVE YOUR life in between all this craziness. Grab moments when you can, and embrace this difficult time of uncertainty. You have done it before and have managed much better than you could have ever imagined. What helped you?
Sit with a relaxing cup of tea and appreciate the quiet, whether it is looking out at nature or enjoying a calm phone call with a beloved friend.
Remind yourself as often as necessary that in this moment you are okay. Remember, having first gone through the COVID pandemic, and now the past 600+ days of war, you are an expert in getting through. Say to yourself out loud that you are – and that you will be – okay.
Make space for the disappointment of a new reality today with things being canceled, time spent in a different way than you would have chosen, being scared about the future, and feeling overwhelmed. Remember, these challenges are not insurmountable.
Acknowledge your children’s fears. They are legitimate, and your kids need you to hear them. As their role model, if you handle things well, in all likelihood so will they.
Take out pen and paper and have fun making a list with your children of all that they are grateful for. Appreciate the little things.
Follow Home Front Command instructions. They may save your life.
This is a very unusual time. Remind yourself that your reactions are a very normal response to a very abnormal situation. You will survive, and even thrive. If you have any concerns, reach out to a professional. May we all soon experience much better times.
The writer is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in Ra’anana, specializing in trauma, grief, and bereavement. The author of Life’s Journey: Exploring Relationships – Resolving Conflicts, she has written about psychology in The Jerusalem Post since 2000. ludman@netvision.net.il, drbatyaludman.com