By now, we know the outcome of Tuesday’s elections (hopefully), and have lived through another cycle of campaigns, yard signs, TV commercials, the 30-second radio spots, and social media posts. I’ve found myself asking, “When will it all be over?” Given my role in the Division of Student Life, I’ve spent years helping registered student organizations plan political candidate or elected official visits. That is always non-partisan, hard work and never seems too political. Ironic, I know. It’s more about where the stage goes, when the candidate will arrive, the expected crowd size related to fire safety capacity, what door is designated as an emergency exit, or if candidates travel with security. While the political or electoral world is spiraling, I find it helpful to intentionally not focus on those topics. Instead, I turn my focus to what brings me joy.

I’m tired, not “burned out” – I love my work, my family, and friends. I engage in activities that help me feel good. As I’ve reflected on what might be contributing to my fatigue, I’m reminded of two periods in my life.

When we are in emotional crisis mode, as we were during the COVID-19 pandemic, all our energy is directed toward coping with the crisis at hand. When there is forced structure and expectations, e.g. we were told to get vaccinated, wash our hands, and practice social distancing, it is clear what is expected of us. Now, as we continue to transition out of crisis mode, we can lack that dependable structure of expected and structured choices. While the coping skills and self-care that you established during the pandemic got you to this day, you may now find yourself feeling emotionally and socially pressured to fit into the dichotomy of either the pre-pandemic “normal” or of operating in crisis mode of limited and forced choices.

Picture this: You’re at work or out in the community and you witness someone treat another person in an offensive manner. Maybe someone makes an offensive comment, subtle or otherwise, toward someone else. You consider intervening to support the person being targeted, but instead you decide to stay out of it, to not get involved, to stay neutral. Arriving home later that day you think, “I wish I could have done something.” Well, actually,…you probably could have. So let’s talk about this so you can be prepared to help a fellow human in need the next time something like this happens.

When listening to a podcast featuring Steve Shriver, Iowa entrepreneur and CEO of Eco-Lips, something he said about balancing work and life really resonated with me. It was about the ability to manage one’s work life and life outside of work being a myth. Shriver discussed how different stages in his life and business endeavors called for him to flex where he was spending his time.

A year and a half ago, a friend texted me to ask if I was selling RayBan sunglasses on Instagram. I was not, and it was clear that my account had been hacked. I deleted my account and haven’t re-opened it since.

In my role of helping staff within the University of Iowa Emergency Department’s psychiatry team and providing 45 well-being first aid workshops to more than 2,000 clinicians across Iowa, I have a unique perspective into the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on society.

Experiencing, witnessing, and instigating incivility and bullying behaviors can have long-lasting effects on our mental and physiological well-being. In fact, witnessing or experiencing a new event can trigger those old responses. As you read the following three scenarios, think about how you might feel if you witnessed or experienced these events, what you would do, and what University of Iowa resources you would access for help.

I invite you to imagine or reflect on the stereotypes that are assigned in high school. Some of you may remember a famous ‘80s movie where five high school students had to serve an eight-hour detention on a Saturday morning. The characters (reflective of that time) included the following personas: the criminal, the princess, the athlete, the nerd, and the misfit”

Over the last few years, I’ve sometimes felt like I’m on an arduously long roller coaster ride in the dark. Just when I think I know what is going to happen next, there is a sharp turn or a stomach-dropping descent that comes out of nowhere. Before I’ve even had a moment to process or feel relief, I have noticed that I’m bracing for or fearing whatever unexpected turn is up next.