TL;DR –Just as physical care packages provide tangible comfort across distances, this digital collection of resources serves as emotional support during COVID-19's collective trauma. The pandemic creates a unique mental health challenge—we're facing a marathon-length crisis while our nervous systems sprint at high alert, burning through reserves we'll need for the long haul. Running on constant anxiety about health, economics, and uncertainty isn't sustainable; it's like trying to run a marathon at sprint pace, guaranteeing burnout and physical impacts from chronic stress activation.
This digital care package acknowledges there's no "right" way to feel during a pandemic—anxiety about the unknown is natural and expected. Yet we still need to support our nervous systems through this extended stress, finding ways to downshift from constant high alert. The curated resources—meditations, self-care suggestions, comfort essays, and grounding tools—aim to help regulate overwhelmed nervous systems and provide moments of ease amidst chaos. While we can't control the pandemic's trajectory or timeline, we can offer ourselves small comforts, gentle regulation practices, and reminders that we've survived hard things before and will survive this too.
One of the things I love most about my mom is how wonderful she is at sending care packages.
Across my college days, my Peace Corps days, and even into my mid- and late- twenties, my mom would, wherever I lived in the world, send me thoughtfully curated, beautiful care packages.
Tins of homemade cookies, scented soap, socks and underwear, favorite magazines, and always a handwritten note from her with maybe a sticker or two on it.
Across my college days, my Peace Corps days, and even into my mid- and late- twenties, my mom would, wherever I lived in the world, send me thoughtfully curated, beautiful care packages.
Tins of homemade cookies, scented soap, socks and underwear, favorite magazines, and always a handwritten note from her with maybe a sticker or two on it.
These packages were like tangible hugs across the miles and sometimes oceans.
Comfort in a box. Something sweet amidst hard times.
Today, the world collectively turns its attention to COVID-19.
As we feel and face our way through it all, you may be struggling.
You may feel anxious about getting sick. Concerned about your vulnerable loved ones.
You may feel worried about economic losses and what you see the stock market doing.
You may have your trauma triggers rearing up right now. Impacts triggered by all the not knowing.
You may be having trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, feeling grounded, feeling steady.
You may be having a really hard time.
Please know that this is normal and natural.
There is no one “way” we’re supposed to feel amidst the COVID pandemic.
Anxiety is a normal and natural response to the unknown, and let’s face it, there’s plenty of that these days.
And still, though, we want to try and support our nervous systems however we can as we cope with this added stress.
When you can’t calm down your nervous system, when you’re running on high alert all the time, it’s like trying to run a marathon at a sprint pace.
You will burn out. You will feel the huge physical impacts of it.
We may be facing a proverbial marathon-like situation since we don’t know how many months it will take for COVID-19 to become manageable.
It’s a proverbial mental health marathon right now and we can’t have your nervous system on high alert (aka: sprinting) across all of that time.
To that end, while I can’t send each of you an actual tangible care package, today’s post is my 2020 equivalent of what my mother has always done for me. A digital care package of comfort to see you through hard times.
It’s a curated “package” of my words, thoughts, tools, and resources. (Including a guided audio meditation spoken by me and a book I’m making free to you.) All designed to bring you a little comfort, a little more ease for your nervous system. And more peace for your mind in these trying times.
I hope that any, some or all of it feels supportive to you. That even one post or one sentence can help support your nervous system to regulate. I hope that this post feels good to you.
Curious if you come from a relational trauma background?
Take this 5-minute, 25-question quiz to find out — and learn what to do next if you do.
START THE QUIZI care about you. We will get through this.
Here’s to healing relational trauma and creating thriving lives on solid foundations.
Warmly,
Annie
A Care Package Of Comfort For Trying Times
- A grounding and nourishing meditation. (spoken by me, for you)
- A recipe for robust mental health: 13 ingredients. (one of my articles)
- A pep talk for those times when you’re struggling. (one of my blog posts)
- A few words of comfort on very hard days. (one of my blog posts)
- When life feels impossible. A note from me to you. (one of my blog posts)
- 101 self-care suggestions when it all feels like too much. (one of my blog posts)
- 101 reasons why it will all be okay.(one of my blog posts)
- 99 Uplifting quotes to spark your soul and see you through hard times. (one of my blog posts)
- Adulting’s not always easy. And humaning can be hard. (one of my blog posts)
Creating Comfort Through Crisis-Oriented Therapy
When you arrive at therapy exhausted from weeks of pandemic hypervigilance, describing how you can’t turn off the anxiety even though you know this could last months, your therapist helps you understand that trying to maintain crisis-level activation long-term is like attempting to feel all of your feelings as the key to a more enlivened life—but in reverse, where feeling everything at maximum intensity constantly leads to numbness and burnout rather than vitality.
Your therapist introduces the marathon versus sprint metaphor. They explain that your nervous system is doing exactly what it’s designed to do—mobilizing for threat. The problem is duration, not activation.
Together, you create what they call “regulation breaks”—small windows where you intentionally downshift your nervous system. Not pretending everything’s fine, but giving yourself permission to rest between waves of anxiety.
They teach you pendulation—consciously moving between activation and calm. You practice noticing when you’re spiraling into COVID catastrophizing and gently bringing attention to something neutral: the temperature of your tea, the softness of your sweater, the rhythm of your breath.
Your therapist helps you understand that comfort isn’t frivolous during crisis—it’s necessary maintenance. Just as care packages provide tangible relief to someone far from home, small comforts provide your nervous system with evidence that not everything is threat.
You work on creating your own “comfort protocol”—a list of reliable soothers you can access when anxiety spikes. Hot baths, specific music, pet videos, calling certain friends. These aren’t cures but circuit breakers, preventing your system from staying locked in alarm mode.
Most importantly, your therapist normalizes the full spectrum of pandemic responses. Some days you’re anxious, some numb, some oddly productive, some completely frozen. There’s no right way to feel during collective trauma.
They remind you that offering yourself comfort during crisis isn’t weakness but wisdom. Your nervous system needs periodic relief to sustain long-term coping. Through small acts of self-soothing, you’re not avoiding reality but ensuring you have the resources to face whatever comes next.
