The tension over the past three weeks surrounding a potential Iranian attack has permeated Israelis' daily lives and thoughts.
The fact that no one knows whether it will happen, when, or how, creates constant alertness, preventing true relaxation or a fully functioning routine.
On the surface, everything seems normal. People continue to work, send children to school, and drive on roads, but internally, each of us experiences a completely different emotional state: a continuous waiting for a threatening event, with no set date or clear boundaries.
This is not a momentary anxiety, but a persistent mental reality. At NATAL, the Israel Trauma and Resiliency Center, we call this state, based on the words of Dr. Boaz Shalgi, the chief psychologist of the organization, "rolling trauma."
This is trauma that doesn't simply begin and end, but moves like a rollercoaster. It has moments of relative routine and return to life, followed by renewed jolts: a headline in the news, an alert, a rumor, or simply an unusually long period of silence.
When that happens, the familiar feelings return: fear, insecurity, a sense of survival, and the loss of certainty. This reality is shared by the general population, particularly by those dealing with post-trauma and the circles around them, such as spouses, children, families, and workplaces.
Israelis lives with rolling trauma create physical, mental health issues
Over the past two years, we have become increasingly aware of the depth of the connection between body and mind. We are seeing a clear rise not only in mental health issues but also in physical symptoms, such as extreme fatigue, pain, sleep problems, worsening of chronic diseases, and more. The body is reacting to a reality in which the threat persists.
Alongside this, another significant factor emerges: the lack of mediation and explanation. After the events of October 7, not only was personal security disrupted, but also the order of the world on which we relied.
For years, we learned to trust social and institutional structures: functional authorities, clear regulations, a division of responsibility between civil and military bodies, and coordination between the legislative, executive, and security branches.
These concepts are not only political - they are psychological. They allow individuals to function within a stable social structure, giving them a sense that someone is managing reality.
When these paradigms are shaken, a double fracture occurs: external and internal. Trust is broken, the sense of security crumbles, and the person is left to navigate uncertainty alone, without a framework.
In such a situation, mediation for the public is not a luxury - it is a condition for continued functioning. Even when there are no full answers, the very act of explanation, of recognizing the situation, and presenting as clear a picture of reality as possible, allows people to breathe, manage anxiety, and continue to function.
The deeper problem is that we are still in a rolling trauma that we haven’t had time to digest. As individuals and as a society, we haven’t really been able to process the series of traumatic events: loss, injuries, family and marital challenges, and ongoing burnout. When there is no chance to breathe, any sudden event or even a potential threat deepens the emotional experience and resurfaces old fears.
It is no coincidence that it has been repeatedly said that the return of the hostages will allow the beginning of processing and healing. The end of the war will allow feelings of security and trust, both internal and national, to start being built up again. As long as we are in the rolling trauma, we cannot move on to the next stage. The system remains on constant alert.
In professional terms, this is ongoing physiological, emotional, and behavioral arousal. The sympathetic system - which is supposed to act in the face of an immediate threat - remains active, as if the danger is already here, all the time.
This is why we see reactions resembling post-traumatic stress disorder even among those who were not directly on the battlefield: hyperarousal, avoidance, helplessness, and the flooding of memories and feelings from past events.
In the past, we were used to thinking of trauma as an event with a beginning, middle, and end. The ongoing war and the current tension surrounding Iran break this sequence. There is no clear end, and therefore, no beginning of healing. This reality is confusing, exhausting, and leaves many of us with the feeling that there is really nowhere to go.
Acknowledging the situation, open dialogue, and responsible mediation are not only a matter of policy but a basic psychological need. Without this, we all continue to maintain a fragile routine, beneath which pulses a collective anxiety that seeks recognition, processing, and hope for an end.
The author is a social worker, the professional director of the clinical unit at NATAL, and head of the couples and family therapy program at Bar-Ilan University.