This month—and not a moment too soon—we welcome Danielle Nelson, a practicing therapist and Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW) who focuses on sexual health and wellness, trauma and recovery, self-esteem and resilience building, life transitions, and general mental health concerns. Welcome aboard Danielle!
Though Danielle is a trained professional, this column is not a substitute for advice or care provided by your licensed medical or health care professional.
What the fuck is going on right now?
First off, excellent, relevant question. I wish I had a concise answer for you with clear timelines and linear strategies for climbing out of what feels like an endless pit of catastrophe and heartache, but that’s not where we are.
Where we are is a place of uncertainty. Like many of you, I spent the first hours of 2025 in a haze of heartbreak and disbelief, watching as terror rampaged in our very own backyard. Moving through the familiar news-ache, I thought with dread about the future of American democracy, the erosion of basic human rights, and the raging climate crisis unfolding in every part of the globe. For better or worse, we’re all going through this together. The best I can do is listen to the urgency in your question, respond with empathy, and talk you through some of the reactions you may be having. May I offer you a few ways to feel a little better? Even if it’s only for a little while?
A lot of us are grieving right now, and there’s no right way to do it. Grief is layered and complex. There are the tangible, material losses, and then there’s a loss that’s harder to put into words. Let’s call it the loss of our story. Whether we know it or not, as humans we constantly walk around telling ourselves stories about the future. It’s a way to gain a feeling of control in a world of unpredictable outcomes and big scary unknowns. It isn’t until we feel the pangs of shock, denial, rage, withdrawal, or any number of feelings that we realize we were holding on to an outcome that was taken away. Suddenly, there’s a lot to set down that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. To replace it, there’s the shitty new version of the future that emerges from a relentless and re-traumatizing 24-hour news cycle—a doomscroller’s delight. So, hey: Be gentle with yourself and others right now.
What Are You Feeling?
Professionally and personally, I hear people struggle with how they should be feeling. A few things to remember about feelings: They aren’t right, wrong, or permanent. In fact, they’re protective. Evolutionarily speaking, our feelings and emotions prompt behaviors that increase our chances for survival and reproduction. For example, the feeling of anxiety or fear might elicit the desire to flee to avoid danger, whereas feelings of happiness can promote social engagement and close personal attachments.
So, what are you feeling? Sometimes just naming the feeling can provide relief. A few common reactions and feelings that folks tend to experience following traumatic events and prolonged exposure to stress are:
Shock, Withdrawal, and Numbness
Ah, my personal favorite: disassociation. The best way to describe dissociation is like watching yourself as though you were in a movie or dream—essentially feeling outside of yourself. A client told me that spending time with her once-estranged mother made her feel like she was a photograph out of focus. She knew there was the potential for feeling bright, sharp, and present—but somehow the lens was locked and she was just fuzzy. While dizzying and disorienting, dissociation is actually a kind of shield. It’s reflexive. When the brain disassociates, it prevents you from feeling the full impact of what you’ve experienced all at once. Theoretically, feeling out of focus was preparing her for the emotions as they began to arrive and take shape so she could slowly begin to see the full picture.
Anxiety and Fear
Uncertainty about the future is a constant (see above: re: stories we tell ourselves), but most of us don’t lead with that thought. Who among us isn’t prone to existential dread? But when our reality is redefined by something violent and our safety is threatened, it’s a different kind of uncertainty. Suddenly you may be grappling with your worldview, finding it difficult to relax, or experiencing intrusive thoughts. It’s completely understandable to feel on-edge or overwhelmed with worry.
If you find yourself dissociating or zoning out frequently, or maybe you’ve been experiencing one (or more) of those unwelcome panic attacks, it’s OK. Watch out for “should” or “could” language in your self-talk. Your brain is doing a lot of heavy lifting and is probably fatigued. Good news: There are ways to get out of that lovely, complicated, hard-working mind of yours and back in your body.
Grounding Techniques
One of my favorite techniques for grounding yourself during dissociation and finding safety and control during panic/anxiety is the 5-4-3-2-1 Technique: Acknowledge five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. Becoming more aware of your surroundings can help you get focused on your senses, naturally bringing you back into the present moment.
As the protective dissociative layer starts to melt away, you’re going to feel again, and it might be overwhelming. You may find yourself crying uncontrollably at unexpected times, or being irritable or angry without knowing where it’s coming from. If you don’t get your feelings out on your own terms, they’ll start showing up without your consent. Before coming home to write this column, I witnessed someone get aggressive toward a Rouses checkout clerk, only to have her tell him, “This ain’t about me, babe.” ICON. She’s right. It’s not about her. The only way to move through grief is to feel the damn feelings, so be proactive about it lest they emerge willy-nilly as misdirected hostility.
If you’re emotionally flooded frequently and it’s disruptive, you’re not alone and I’ve got good news: You can (kind of) schedule your grief. The clinical term is compartmentalization. Here’s how it works: Choose a time in the day when you will be somewhere safe to let the emotions out. Ideally choose a moment when you can have a period of rest afterward. When you feel big emotions coming on at inopportune times, acknowledge the feeling and make a promise to yourself to revisit it at your scheduled grief time. Make a little note to remind yourself of the thought so you can acknowledge it in the moment and give it proper attention later. For example, let’s say you’ve chosen 4 p.m. in your bedroom. Set an alarm for 15 minutes and let it out: cry, write, scream into a pillow, play sad music, whatever it takes. When the timer goes off, take a deep breath and recenter yourself by resetting your body. Drink a glass of cool water or a hot cup of tea. I personally enjoy washing my face with really cold water.
Who Am I and Why Am I Here?
You may be wondering who I think I am with all my loose talk about feelings, haughty aphorisms, and Rouses anecdotes. I’m a New Orleanian who made it back home two years ago after spending over a decade working in San Diego and Chicago as a clinical therapist. I started my career as a social worker in a university hospital. It was the perfect place to cut my teeth—no one calls a hospital social worker because things are going according to plan. I spent seven years there, providing intensive therapy in the NICU, OBGYN, Trauma and SICU departments, and finally the Burn Unit, where I worked largely with children. I now run a private practice.
My theory on therapy goes for this advice column as well: There is no hierarchy. You’re the expert on your life. I’ve got the tools and training to reflect back what I hear with some questions and ideas that might help you untangle some of the distress you’re experiencing.
What kind of things can you ask me? In short: whatever the hell you want. Bring me your 3 a.m. insomnia thoughts and that impulse you keep trying to resist. Dump out the cringe you’re desperate to get rid of. That thing your partner keeps asking for in bed that you can’t even tell your closest friend about—I can handle it. Was your reaction valid, or did you overreact? Let’s take a look. Shame thrives in silence. Let’s talk it through. I’ve seen and heard it all. So let’s get started.
If you need to speak to someone right away, call 504-269-COPE (2673). The COPE crisis line provides free, confidential crisis counseling, suicide prevention and information, and mental health referral services 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
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illustrations by Romey Petite
