Endurance in the shadows: the psychological toll of the war in Ukraine
- Matthew Parish
- Apr 12
- 3 min read

The war in Ukraine, now grinding through its third year, has taken a brutal toll on both those at the front and those who remain behind. While the world often focuses on the intensity of battles or the sweep of geopolitical consequences, an equally profound—yet quieter—struggle unfolds in the minds of those enduring it day after day. The war has become, in many ways, a war of endurance: not just of bodies, but of spirits. For both soldiers and civilians, it is a long, grinding passage through repetition, fear, and fatigue. The emotional landscape is not defined by glory or high drama, but by dull, persistent survival in conditions that often feel devoid of meaning or progress.
Trench Warfare in the Modern Age
For many Ukrainian soldiers, the war has come to resemble the trench battles of the First World War more than the swift, high-tech warfare envisioned at its onset. Across long, muddy front lines in Donbas and Zaporizhzhia, men and women live in dugouts for weeks on end, often under the constant threat of shelling or drone surveillance. The rhythm of life in these trenches is marked by long periods of eerie quiet punctuated by moments of sudden, explosive violence. There is no regularity, no safety, and no clean separation between rest and danger.
The psychological impact of this kind of warfare is immense. The mind begins to bend under the weight of repetition: the same food, the same scenery, the same threats. Conversations become stale. Physical fatigue compounds mental exhaustion. For those not rotating out regularly, the sensation of being frozen in time—stuck between violence and nothingness—leads many to describe a kind of emotional numbness. Some soldiers say that the most terrifying part is not the fear of death, but the growing indifference to it.
Civilians in a War Without End
Behind the lines, civilians face a different but parallel reality. For many in eastern and southern Ukraine, life has shrunk into a rhythm of survival—air raid alerts, power outages, and the constant balancing act of trying to maintain normalcy in a fractured world. Schools are partially closed or relocated underground. Shops open erratically. Unemployment is rampant. And amidst all this, the unrelenting anxiety of waiting—waiting for loved ones to return from the front, waiting for shelling to stop, waiting for the war to end.
Just as in the trenches, civilians also experience the mental wear of monotony and uncertainty. Even in areas far from active combat, life is suspended. For displaced families, life in shelters or temporary housing can feel like an endless loop: wake, wait, worry, repeat. Over time, the lack of intellectual and emotional stimulation takes its toll. Cultural life is muted, artistic and academic institutions struggle, and collective exhaustion dims the drive for creativity and engagement.
The Collapse of Time and Meaning
One of the defining psychological features of this war, reported by soldiers and civilians alike, is the collapse of time. With days indistinguishable from each other, and major victories or defeats rare and localised, the conflict can feel like it stretches on endlessly without direction. For those on the front, there is often a growing disconnect between the abstract language of geopolitics—soaring rhetoric about freedom, sovereignty, and defence—and the lived reality of cramped shelters, rotting boots, and cold hands wrapped around a rifle.
This existential weariness can deepen depression and create an overwhelming sense of isolation. It also erodes morale, especially for volunteers or conscripts who once felt a sense of higher purpose but now feel forgotten by the world. For many, it is not fear that haunts the long hours, but boredom and hopelessness.
Seeking Resilience Amid the Fog
Yet, despite this psychological darkness, resilience remains a thread woven throughout the Ukrainian experience. The war has not crushed the country’s will to survive or resist. Mental health services, though overwhelmed, are being expanded. NGO's are organising art therapy sessions, mobile libraries, and education programmes for displaced children. On the front, veterans return to share coping strategies, and units try to break up monotony with games, music, or humour.
The international community can play a vital role here—not only by supplying arms and aid but by recognising the invisible wounds of prolonged conflict. Supporting Ukrainian mental health infrastructure, cultural institutions, and local community groups is essential to preserving the country’s spirit as much as its territory.
Conclusion
War is not always marked by constant action. For many, it is a long, silent march through grey days, repetitive duties, and psychological fatigue. In Ukraine, both soldiers and civilians are learning to live in the quiet spaces between bombardments—in the boredom, the numbness, the waiting. Their endurance is remarkable, but not without cost. As the world watches the larger movements of war, it must also remember the interior battles being fought—quietly, painfully—every single day.