The Problem With the Phrase 'COVID Anxiety Syndrome'

I’ve always been on the hypervigilant side– perhaps because of my trauma, my anxiety or just my nature. I’m generally a bit too cautious, too calculated, too hesitant, too risk averse and too pessimistic about outcomes. It’s something I’ve been working on, because I know it’s not the healthiest, but it’s how I cope.

So, last year when COVID-19 hit and hypervigilance became the norm rather than a possible trauma response, it was a bit jarring. Suddenly, actions that would have been pathologized like constantly washing and sanitizing our hands, avoiding touching public surfaces, wearing masks and avoiding human contact out of fear of germ transmission became the norm. For many of us, COVID-19 was top of mind and starting out these new habits came more easily out of fear. For others, it took some time to be extra cautious. Like anything new, there’s a bit of an adjustment period. Reversing those habits will be no different.

As restrictions relax and more people become vaccinated, many folks are struggling to break these habits. Labelled “COVID Anxiety Syndrome,” this has been a new way to pathologize a very normal experience. After more than a year of practicing safety habits, it’s hard to break and takes time to adjust to the latest version of reality. I don’t think we need to pathologize this– it’s absolutely expected that the anxiety around COVID-19 won’t wear off with a vaccine. The vaccine may reduce our chances of contracting COVID-19 but it doesn’t magically erase the trauma we’ve experienced since last March. It doesn’t suddenly make us comfortable to engage in activities that just weeks ago were considered dangerous and risky. We also have to remember that while our friends and family may be getting vaccinated, COVID-19 is still very active and raging in a number of communities, particularly in underrepresented communities. We see it on the news, on Twitter, on Instagram–  it’s no wonder so many of us are still feeling anxiety around COVID-19.

For months, this anxiety has kept us safe and secure in some ways. To a certain extent, fear was a motivator for people to abide by public health guidelines and that’s not a bad thing. Just because that hasn’t dissipated with the flip of a switch doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you, or that you need to be labelled as having “COVID Anxiety Syndrome.”

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me to join her and some other people for dinner. While indoor dining with people outside of your household was prohibited under local health guidelines, she felt comfortable enough to go. She mentioned she understood that I may not feel comfortable coming and that was okay, but I was astounded by the perception I had that it was just my anxiety or discomfort. It almost felt gaslighting in a way— like there wasn’t a terrifying and dangerous active pandemic, but just my anxiety and hypervigilance preventing me from going.

COVID-19 is still very real, so to chalk up someone’s maintained vigilance and adherence to public health guidelines as disordered thinking or a syndrome is absolutely absurd. Just because now guidelines are changing rapidly doesn’t mean that our minds and bodies are ready to pivot that quickly.

If I told you tomorrow that you no longer have to wear a seatbelt in your car while driving, you’d probably be hesitant to drive without it. Despite new guidelines that seat belts aren’t required, your conditioning would tell you that maybe you should still wear it, just in case. It wouldn’t be pathologized or judged, it would be very logical to have that hesitancy– this is no different. When you’re on an airplane, you must wear your seat belt when the sign is lit. But once you’ve reached cruising altitude and there’s no turbulence, the light goes off. Many people will still keep their seat belts fastened even though they don’t have to. We don’t see passengers judging each other for keeping their belts on and there’s no harm in keeping it on. We don’t pathologize and diagnose passengers that keep their seat belts on. We just accept that we have different levels of comfort with flying, and that’s totally okay.

We also shouldn’t be judging others for being more cautious than others and for trying to continue to keep themselves and those around them safe. We have different levels of comfort with relaxed guidelines, and it’s okay. It should still be okay to say we don’t want to take masks off indoors, or get too close, or see each other and we need to respect each other’s boundaries on that. We react to change differently, we react to trauma differently, and we’re all at different stages of adjusting. Judging people for being more careful isn’t fair– it’s hurtful and excludes people. 

As we begin to crawl out of the holes many of us hid in for the past year, the damage and trauma of COVID-19 won’t disappear overnight. For many of us, we’re experiencing more anxiety and depression than ever before. Some of us may come out with PTSD-like symptoms. We won’t bounce back right away– we’re not bouncy balls, we’re humans. And we’re shaped by our experiences, good and bad. It doesn’t make us sick or weak to need longer to adjust to reality. It doesn’t mean we have “COVID Anxiety Syndrome” if we feel like everyone else is getting on every day and we’re taking a bit longer. Sure, some people will have diagnosable mental health conditions as a result of the pandemic, and that’s totally okay too. We don’t need to stigmatize people for being impacted by something so heavy.

At the same time, we can also create space for difficult experiences post-pandemic without labelling people and pathologizing it. Wherever you are in the process of coming out of your COVID-19 cocoon, you’re doing great. It’s okay to be scared, it’s okay to be excited. This will take time, and we don’t need to rush each other into anything we’re uncomfortable with. Be patient with yourself, offer yourself grace, assert your boundaries. Your own pace is perfect.