How to maintain emotional wellbeing during wartime

Friday 30 January 2026

Wartime is not merely a contest of arms. It is an all-encompassing pressure applied to societies and to individuals, compressing time, narrowing horizons and forcing ordinary people to carry extraordinary psychological burdens for prolonged periods. Sirens, casualty lists, disrupted sleep, economic insecurity and the constant background awareness of danger exert a cumulative strain that can be as debilitating as physical injury. Maintaining mental and emotional wellbeing under such conditions is therefore not a secondary concern or a luxury for the fortunate. It is a matter of social resilience and, ultimately, of national survival.

The first challenge of wartime psychology is the illusion that distress is a personal failing. In peaceful societies, emotional regulation is often framed as an individual responsibility, with stress treated as a problem to be solved privately. War breaks this model. Anxiety, irritability, grief, numbness and sudden exhaustion are not signs of weakness; they are normal responses to abnormal conditions. Recognising this distinction is foundational. Individuals who understand that their reactions are shared and expected are less likely to internalise shame and more likely to seek support when they need it.

Routine, even in simplified or improvised form, plays a stabilising role. War destroys predictability, but the human nervous system depends upon it. Small, repeated structures such as morning walks, fixed mealtimes, regular news-checking windows or evening conversations create psychological handholds. These routines do not eliminate fear, but they prevent fear from saturating every moment of the day. In this sense, routine is not escapism; it is containment.

Equally important is the disciplined management of information. Modern warfare unfolds not only on battlefields but across digital platforms, where images, rumours and commentary circulate continuously. Unfiltered exposure to news, particularly graphic or speculative material, can induce a permanent state of hyper-arousal. This is not heightened awareness but cognitive overload. Establishing boundaries around information intake, limiting exposure to specific times and relying on trusted sources, allows individuals to remain informed without being overwhelmed. Strategic ignorance, carefully applied, is a form of self-preservation.

Social connection remains one of the most robust protective factors against psychological harm. Wartime often fractures families and disperses communities, yet it also generates new forms of solidarity. Shared hardship can reduce social barriers and encourage emotional honesty that peacetime norms sometimes discourage. Talking does not require eloquence or solutions; it requires presence. Conversations about ordinary matters, alongside shared expressions of fear or grief, help to anchor people in a collective reality rather than leaving them isolated with their thoughts. For many, volunteering, mutual aid or simple acts of practical assistance provide a sense of agency that counters the helplessness imposed by events beyond individual control.

Physical care and mental care are inseparable. Sleep disruption, poor nutrition and prolonged inactivity intensify emotional instability and impair judgement. Wartime conditions may make ideal habits impossible, but partial solutions still matter. Regular movement, even brief, improves mood regulation. Sleep, although often fragmented, benefits from consistency and from rituals that signal rest, such as dimming lights or avoiding news late at night. These measures do not trivialise the surrounding danger; they strengthen the capacity to endure it.

Meaning, finally, is a critical resource. War strips away many assumptions about safety and progress, but it often clarifies values. For some, meaning is found in resistance, defence or professional duty. For others it lies in protecting children, preserving culture or simply continuing daily life with dignity. Meaning does not require optimism. It requires a sense that one’s actions, however modest, are aligned with something larger than fear. This alignment buffers despair and helps individuals interpret suffering without being consumed by it.

Mental and emotional wellbeing during wartime is not the absence of distress. It is the ability to function, to care for others and to retain one’s humanity under sustained pressure. Societies that understand this do not ask their citizens to be unbreakable. They provide permission to struggle, structures to support recovery and narratives that honour endurance without romanticising pain. In doing so, they recognise that resilience is not an innate trait possessed by a few, but a shared achievement built, day by day, under the most difficult of circumstances.