We know the holidays aren't always the happiest. And today, as wishes of joy fill the air, we want you to know that whatever you're feeling is valid and you are so very not alone. We want you to find peace and hope in the smallest moments, but we also know that this season can come with sadness and pain, especially as we close out a year of immeasurable loss.

As we ring in a new year, socially distant from a world we once knew, it may be hard to find a reason to celebrate. And if you choose not to, that's ok too. But you are still here, and it can totally be enough to just celebrate you. 

We've compiled some resources to hopefully make wherever you are on your journey a little bit easier.

Wishing you safety, peace, and a bit of hope this holiday season. ​

In order to escape the Great Plague affecting Cambridge, Newton retreated in isolation to Woolsthorpe where he came up with his theories of gravity, optics and calculus.
 
After a wildfire, landscapes will explode with thousands of flowers known as a superbloom and come back even more beautiful and healthier than before.
 
Hurricane Sandy rid Long Island Bay of its polluted water--the constant surge of the tides dispersed toxins in the bay and returned the water cleanliness to levels not seen since the mid-1970s.
 
Shakespeare wrote ‘King Lear,' 'Macbeth' and 'Antony and Cleopatra' as London reeled from an outbreak of the bubonic plague in 1606.
 
What a beautiful thought it is that things, and people, can come out of a state of devastation and isolation even stronger than before.
 
Covid-19 forced many of us into self-isolation. In this isolated state, emotions can be heightened, and mental health can be gravely affected. A recent review in Psychology Today on the effects of quarantine on individuals points to increased confusion, anger, post-traumatic stress symptoms, and extended periods of grief, sometimes lasting even three years after the end of the quarantine. Stressors range anywhere from longer quarantine duration, inadequate information and supplies, and infection fears, to frustration, boredom, grief, financial loss and stigma.
 
Of course, people with a history of mental illness are at increased risks, but no one is immune to the mental effects that isolation and fear can have during and after a pandemic. And, for some, those effects will last long after the virus is gone. In addition, health care workers and others on the frontlines are facing even more dangers to both their physical and mental health. These workers, especially, will need continued support after this is over.
 
Effects on Children 
The good news for parents is that psychologists who work with childhood trauma agree that children are incredibly resilient. According to child psychologist Jessica Wozniak, we’re going to see a range of effects from this pandemic on children based heavily on family and community circumstances. Some will be mild and short-term such as trouble sleeping, increased worry or behavioral outbursts, while others may see more long-term effects of post-traumatic stress disorder. It is noted that there are factors that can decrease a child’s ability to withstand trauma. A child’s proximity to the event can be a factor. In this case, children are just as impacted as adults, but parents do have the ability to monitor their intake of news surrounding the pandemic and are encouraged to do so. The likelihood of long-term trauma also increases for children who are already in an unstable state. It will be more important than ever to make sure disadvantaged populations have adequate access to mental health care and ongoing support.
 
Wozniak stresses that children most often look to caregivers for how to react and cope with trauma. The more adjusted a caregiver is, the calmer children will be, especially as life starts to return to a sense of normalcy. As with adults, giving children some agency over the isolation and being away from friends by making sure they know they are helping others and contributing to the greater good can provide comfort and a sense of pride. That shared purpose can also bring a family even closer together and add value moving forward. It is also likely that we will continue to see small changes in this generation, such as being more reluctant to shake hands or leaning into technology even more. Only time will tell. What we do know is that we need to continue being compassionate and understanding with one another. We are all experiencing this together, after all, and no one has all the answers.
 
Shining a Light on Mental Health
On the bright side, mental health is being talked about more than ever before, and people are even more aware of the importance of taking care of their overall well-being. During the pandemic, self-care has been deemed a necessity for most, with many organizations sharing resources for taking care of one’s mental health, counselors switching to tele-health services and individuals sharing at home self-care routines. Crisis hotlines saw calls increase in the thousands during this time. We also saw people making an active effort to connect with each other through virtual game nights, Zoom happy hours, drive-by birthday “parades,” and through other innovative means.
 
As we go back to normal, it’s important to identify which parts of “normal” are worth going back to.
 
Where we go from here matters.
As we’ve seen throughout history, some of the world’s greatest creations came from a forced state of isolation, and regrowth is often healthier after a state of disruption. Jessica Carson, Neuroscientist and Psychologist, stresses the importance of using this situation as an opportunity to reallocate energy and find balance. Imagine dividing 12 units of energy across four areas, family, occupation, recreation and dreams (making dreams a reality). What did it look like before Coronavirus? What does it look like now? And, where do we want to go from here?
​
Written by Chelsea Borruano

​we compare our pain as if there is only a certain amount in this world to be given. rank our suffering, use it to give or deny ourselves the permission to feel. there are people who are sick, dying, losing their jobs, people who never had them to begin with. people who are hungry. who are you to be experiencing anything but gratitude?

I am overwhelmed by my sadness, the strength to which my feelings can overtake me in a matter of seconds, dragging me to the depths of despair as I sit comfortably in an air-conditioned apartment with a fridge that is full and a fluffy little creature nestled at my toes. you are not worthy of sadness today, the voices say.

my disorder thrives in these lonely moments, feeding on the guilt and shame of asking for too much from a world that is - for all intents and purposes - tapped out. I berate myself for the messiness of my feelings, shave away the excess so I too can fit in the box of all that is ‘just right’.

I live in constant fear that the bigness of what is happening inside of me is wrong, that my taking of space will overwhelm the people I love and force them to disappear.

but there is something freeing in this quiet, a knowing emerging from its hiding place. I am confronted each day by a shadow that used to dance behind all that is life beyond this. I ran from its darkness, its silhouette stretching thin in my wake until disintegrating into nothing at all.

but now, the shadow stands just slightly taller than myself, cast from a light that is close by.
I am here, it seems to say, announcing my existence.

I am learning to be alone. and maybe it’s because I didn’t bring this upon myself that it feels lighter than it would in another time, a purposeful act of being alone that is not representative of an absence of love but perhaps even a surplus of it.
maybe I am not a mess. maybe I am just a person who feels deeply in a messy world. and maybe there are others who feel this way - completely and without hesitation, others who read what I write and feel the pressure release. others who feel the weight of this loneliness lifting.

maybe we’re not overreacting. maybe we’re not broken.
maybe we’re just paying attention.

​We hear it a lot. "I don't see color." And, I get it. The sentiment is there. We're all human beings after all. But here's the thing, it's our differences that make us who we are. It's our background, our pain, our strength, our culture, our history, our hardships, our triumphs, that make us beautiful. It's time to open our eyes and explore the differences. It's time we not only see color, but celebrate it. It's time. I see you, and you are beautiful.

I've been hesitant to write about what I've been dealing with these past couple weeks. Mostly because it's not exactly positive or uplifting. As the founder of the project, I know that people are looking to me to offer something, anything, during this time. I believe we've done a lot as an organization by sharing resources and hosting giveaways and virtual meetups, and I'm proud of that. But I also started this project with the intention of being bold in our conversations about mental health and that starts with me. That starts with honesty and vulnerability. 

When I was 28, I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and Major Depressive Disorder (MDD). I've talked a lot about how that diagnosis, and subsequent treatment, has changed my life and brought me to where I am today. What I want, or rather need to talk about now is how incredibly triggering this pandemic has been for my GAD and MDD symptoms. 

For the past three or so years, I've kept these issues in check. I've taken on a lot of what would be considered stressors and prevailed because of the tools I've learned along the way.

Let me tell you, those tools got nothin' on the coronavirus. 

I have this pressure in my chest constantly that no breathing exercise seems to touch. My anxiety is affecting my ability to do my job and succeed in my master's program, in mental health counseling of all things. I'm starting to feel like some sort of poser. How can I help people as a counselor if I can't even help myself? When I got help all those years ago, I did it because I couldn't eat and I couldn't leave my house due to my depression. I've been having flashbacks of that time of extreme isolation and am finding myself being drawn to the safety of shutting out the world. A friend shared an article that could not have explained my fears any better--“On the one hand, I am concerned that this will not only exacerbate things for those who are already isolated and lonely, but also might be a triggering point for others to now get into habits of connecting less...(read more).” 

I have been exploring ways to deal. One thing that seems to help me is looking at time differently. When I feel anxious about anything--work, this nonprofit, my classes, getting sick--I remind myself that time is relative right now. I actually have the full 24 hours to spread things out in a way that works best for my mental wellness. Right now, my mental health has to be more important than being hyper available from 8-5:30 Mon-Fri and basically anytime in between. I take a break when my anxiety gets bad and do something mindless, like watch a quick episode of a sitcom, and then I get back to whatever I'm working on. On the flipside, I seem to have more energy around 8 pm or so, so I use that time and energy to wrap up anything that my anxiety kept me from getting to during the day. ​I also spend time outside, drink tea, paint and call or facetime friends and family. Sometimes, I just wish I could disconnect from it all, but I also have to remind myself that the responsibilities are still there, and I can't hide from them because of my anxiety.

I know other people have it so much worse and I feel guilty for "complaining." I know "our grandparents went to war and all we have to do is stay home." I know that SO many people are sacrificing SO much for me and it physically hurts me that I will never be able to do anything to repay them. I hurt for people who have lost someone to this virus or who can't say their last goodbye to a dying loved one for fear of spreading the virus and who can't be at the funeral because that would be more than 10 people in a room. I just lost someone very close to me. I can't imagine not being with them when they were suffering and not having the chance to say goodbye. I know my issues are minuscule compared to other people. What I also know is that my anxiety and depression have never been rational. Facts and figures aren't going to ease the pressure in my chest or keep the tears from streaming down my face. One thing is for sure. I'm going to hug my family and friends so dang hard when this is all over (with their consent of course). 

I know I'll be okay. Maybe not today. Maybe not for a couple of months. And that's okay.
Because I'm alive, and I may be isolated, but I AM NOT ALONE. You aren't alone. We're all in this together. Let's talk about it and just be there for each other.
​
Written by: Chelsea Borruano

What we want you to know about grief:

• We may look happy and the truth is, we probably are, but we're also incredibly sad. And we are learning how to live those things in tandem for now.
• We have probably cried uncontrollable or just the briefest of tears not 24 hours ago.
• We feel guilty all the time for going on with our lives without them.
• Sometimes we feel everything all at once, and sometimes we try like hell to feel nothing.
• We do want to hear from you, even if we seem distant.
• We aren't going to do everything right, right now. We're going to make mistakes. And we're so sorry for that.
• But we're trying, and that trying takes up a lot more energy these days.
• So we're also just tired.
• And we want you to understand that.
• Even though it may seem like we're doing just fine on our own, we can't do this alone.

Sincerely, loss but not lost