Prelude: As I write these words, events in the coming days may render them outdated.
Since its founding, Israel has endured many wars, but the Oct. 7 massacre – where roughly 1,200 people were murdered and 251 civilians were kidnapped – was unprecedented in its brutality, scale, and deliberate targeting of innocents. I remember how the nation, suddenly confronted with an existential threat on multiple fronts, shifted instantly into decisive action.
The courage of first responders – those already in the South when the attack began and those who rushed from their homes to rejoin their units – became a source of national pride that will be honored for generations. There was deep anger, directed not only at the government’s failure to prevent such a catastrophe but also at the stark reality that Israel was under attack and facing a genuine threat to its existence.
Yet the nation channeled that anger into purpose. People set aside frustrations, united around a single mission, and rallied to defend the country.
Israel fought and achieved significant victories against Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and in Syria, as well as in last summer’s successful strike on Iran’s nuclear sites, radar systems, and ballistic missile launchers.
Throughout these battles, Israelis endured missile and drone barrages, repeatedly seeking shelter as the country defended itself.
Now, with what is officially called a ceasefire in Gaza – though the reality is far more complex – and with Hezbollah, Syria, and Iran clearly weakened, the region stands at a tense crossroads.
The US has positioned major military assets near Iran, and speculation about what comes next is widespread. For most people, the future feels deeply uncertain. The hard truth is that we are waiting – on hold – pending a decision by President Donald Trump regarding how the US will respond to Iran.
Most assume the hardest part of a crisis is the crisis itself. But psychologically, the hardest part is often the waiting – the suspended moment before a decision is made, when every possible outcome feels simultaneously imminent. The mind can brace for battle; it struggles far more with not knowing.
Why waiting feels so hard
Human beings are wired to seek predictability. One of the brain’s primary functions is to anticipate danger and prepare for it. When the threat is unclear – when we don’t know if, when, or how something might happen – the brain goes into overdrive. It tries to fill in the blanks, often with catastrophic scenarios. The nervous system works overtime, scanning for cues, trying to make sense of incomplete information. It is like running a marathon while standing still.
The Israeli context: Uncertainty on top of exhaustion
For Israelis, this moment lands on top of more than two years of accumulated strain. Since Oct. 7, the national nervous system has been stretched thin. Many describe feeling “tired in their bones,” a fatigue that is emotional as much as physical. Now, with the possibility of a major regional escalation, uncertainty has returned in a new form. Most Israelis support decisive action, yet simultaneously fear the consequences. This emotional duality is not a contradiction – it is a normal human response to a complex reality.
Common reactions to prolonged uncertainty
People respond to uncertainty in predictable ways:
• Overexposure to news: Constantly checking updates or discussing “what might happen” can trigger vicarious trauma.
• Emotional swings: Feeling calm one moment and anxious the next is normal under existential threat.
• Difficulty concentrating: Worry about safety and the future can impair memory and focus.
• Irritability: Containing fear while waiting for clarity often spills over into frustration with others.
• Physical symptoms: Elevated blood pressure, disrupted sleep, and psychosomatic complaints are common.
• Turning to substances: Some cope with fear through alcohol or drugs, which can lead to additional problems.
How to cope
While we cannot control geopolitical events, we can influence how we navigate this psychological limbo.
1. Focus on the here and now
The mind leaps into the future when the present feels unsafe. Grounding techniques – breathing exercises, sensory awareness, meditation, hobbies, exercise, or yoga – can help restore calm.
2. Limit your information diet
Choose specific times to check the news instead of consuming updates all day.
3. Reframe emotion
Instead of thinking “I’m losing control,” try: “I’m anxious because I’m worried about what the US will decide regarding Iran and how it may affect my family.” Naming the emotion reduces its power.
4. Stay connected
Isolation amplifies fear; connection regulates it. Talk with friends or family, but also allow conversations that are not about the crisis. Healthy distraction is essential.
5. Accept ambivalence
It is possible to support action and fear its consequences at the same time. Holding two truths is a sign of psychological maturity, not confusion.
6. Turn to faith or spiritual practice
For many, prayer and belief in divine protection provide strength during moments of extreme uncertainty.
A final thought
Israelis have lived through many difficult chapters, but this moment is unique in its suspended quality. We are waiting for something we cannot yet see. And yet, within this uncertainty lies resilience. The ability to function, to care for one another, and to continue living – even while holding our breath – is itself a quiet form of strength.
The writer is a cognitive-behavioral psychotherapist specializing in adult and couples therapy, with sub-specialties in anxiety, trauma, adjustment disorders, depression, and addiction. He offers consultations and online therapy globally, seeing clients in Ra’anana. drmikegropper@gmail.com; facebook.com/drmikegropper