The COVID-19 pandemic has created isolation. How can we remain social and connected?

As the COVID-19 pandemic stretches into its eleventh month and the nation’s democratic ideals are challenged, the feelings of isolation and even despair are overpowering.

Our worries shift daily, as hospitals turn away ambulances in Los Angeles: Will I get COVID? Are there enough ICU beds if I get sick? When will my family get the vaccine? And what’s going to happen with our government? The feelings of instability are wide-ranging, from watching domestic terrorism in the U.S. Capitol to economic insecurity. It’s exactly these moments that we want to gather our community of loved ones in close and hold on tight. Yet we cannot.

In normal times, I’m an introvert. Yet these many months of physical distancing are lingering longer than even introverts prefer. Solitude by design is one thing. Yet a long winter disconnected from other humans at this wildly fraught time is quite another.

People are lonely and in serious mental distress. My neighbors stop me in the street, not to talk about the weather, but about their marriages, the worries for their children and fear about our democracy and climate change. Much like infants who can become depressed, even developmentally at risk, if they are not held or spoken to, adults also suffer without connection and human contact.

Our public health approach has neglected the profound toll of isolation, exacerbating our separateness. Studies show a three-fold rise in depression from 2019 to during the pandemic. Black, Latinx and youth of all races have experienced the highest increase of anxiety, depression and substance abuse, according to the CDC. Depression and suicide risk among young adults is reaching an all-time high, with one of the main causes being social isolation. And a recent study of children five and above finds that 70% are feeling sad, worried and overwhelmed.

The impact has also been acutely felt among seniors, who depend on social connection as they age. According to Dr. Bruce Miller, a behavioral neurologist at UCSF’s Memory and Aging Center, “Loneliness, anxiety and depression are all more common among our elders. Caregiver burden is huge, particularly in low-income families, where financial stresses have also increased.”

So, in this time of the coronavirus and political polarization, how do we connect and learn to live with both the impact of the virus and each other?

I believe our local and federal leaders, healthcare institutions and social safety nets must treat our mental health crisis and disconnection as seriously as the risk of the virus and the economy. We need our leaders to imagine a collective physical and mental well-being and guide us in navigating this complex and strange world without silencing all of our concerns or expecting us to just lock ourselves in.

Many people are creatively designing their own web of care and connection. DJs who used to travel the world, like Rich Medina, are now hosting parties on Twitch and Instagram. Stepping in to fill a need, artist Kristina Wong started the Auntie Sewing Squad to sew PPE for people who need it, including the children of farmworkers and the Navajo Nation.

In the summer months, it was a familiar sight to see people in parks or hiking and running, weather permitting. It’s about much more than exercising, says Mia Birdsong, author of How We Show Up.

“Disconnection from our bodies is part of the trauma, so we have an appetite for physical movement because it resets our system so we’re not stuck,” Birdsong said.

Birdsong loves her Pilates, Barre & Jams classes, led by Teresa R. Ellis in Oakland, whose virtual classes have spread across the country through word-of-mouth.

“Meeting together provides a touchpoint of a community of people doing a hard thing together,” she said. “Teresa loves you into and through the pain of working your muscles.”

Ellis’ classes are designed for people who have historically been the most marginalized, including Black and queer women and those who identify as fat, and creates a sense of belonging.

“Yet nobody feels rejected,” Birdsong said. “She centers the margins but includes everyone.”

It starts and ends with community. We can endure and stay safe longer with leadership and social support that’s grounded in empathy and common sense, physical health and mental health alike. We need to be seen and heard. We need to belong. That’s how we begin to feel connected and human, now and after the pandemic.

This story was originally published February 6, 2021 at 6:00 AM.