No, I haven’t been watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show. And, no, it isn’t even close to Halloween. But the catchy refrain of the show’s song, “Time Warp,” seems an apt theme for where we are right now.

As we’re all aware, it has been two whole years since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic — and all the pain, heartache and loss that came with it.

Two years since schools shut down, toilet paper disappeared and Zoom became a household word.

Two years of sustained anxiety and stress, increasing depression and constant change.

Two years of loneliness and disconnection, waves of illness and unfathomable loss of life.

For me, the defining words of 2020 were shock and fear. In 2021, they were overwhelm and burnout, mixed with a dash of hope (vaccines!) and a roller coaster of disappointment (Omicron).

And, I don’t know about you, but I’ve started tracking the passage of time in COVID-years. The typical springtime renewal of March also marks this strange new way of marking time. So … happy new year to us?

Entering year three of COVID-19, we have made leaps and bounds, but also lost and learned.

At many points, we’ve taken two steps forward and one step back. And now, we are taking our next steps against the backdrop of continued inequities in our country and traumatic conflict on the other side of the world.

It’s a lot to handle. A recent Vox article captured the feeling of this phase succinctly: there is “an overwhelming sense of can’t even that pervades all aspects of personal and civic life.”

While I “couldn’t even” think about it in January, I feel ready now to choose some new year’s intentions as we hit this unfortunate, but real anniversary. And my intentions have a lot to do with what we’ve learned during this crisis.

We’ve learned that we cannot take our health for granted. We’ve learned that we rely on each other. And we’ve learned that we are part of a community, so much bigger than ourselves.

So, in looking to the future, my headline words for 2022 are Holistic Health.

My intention is to prioritize and protect my well-being. That starts with recognizing the complexity of health, especially as it intersects with the world outside of me.

First, I must confront my internalized stigma to fully recognize that mental health is just as important as physical health. Even as the leader of a countywide behavioral health organization who thinks about these issues all the time, this can be hard to hold onto.

Second, I need to recognize that overall wellness includes social, emotional, spiritual, financial and many other dimensions of health. All of these facets contribute to my well-being.

And as I’ve learned many times over the past two years, if one is dysregulated, it’s easy for the others to become compromised as well.

Right now, protecting my holistic health looks like making the doctors’ appointments I’ve been putting off, stretching my body twice each day, and finally replacing my mattress so I can sleep through the night.

But it’s also being really honest about my emotional needs and which relationships are meeting them, and which ones aren’t.

As an extrovert, it’s saying yes to social plans, while also saying no when I need to recharge. And as a type-A multitasker, it’s stopping to be fully present with my daughters — laughing, playing games and sharing stories in moments that I know are fleeting.

Taking care of myself in these ways feels needed and good. But I also recognize that some of my practices are only possible because of my position of privilege. And reflecting on this reality teaches me that individual health is simply not enough. We must think about our community’s health as well.

Which is why my intention extends further. It can’t just be tunnel vision about what’s best for me or my immediate family. I must remember that my health and well-being are inextricably linked to that of my neighbors, my colleagues, my friends, my kids’ teachers.

None of us lives in a bubble. When a student in my daughter’s class has a meltdown due to the stress they experience at home, we must recognize that it impacts all the other children — and the teacher — in that classroom.

Or, when a first responder is struggling with depression and can’t focus on the job, their mental wellness can mean life and death for others. We are quite literally all in this together.

As we mark this strange two-year anniversary, I encourage you to take a moment to really check in with yourself. Whether you are feeling a sense of renewal, or a flood of overwhelm, be honest with yourself about it.

Do what you need to do to address it. And then reflect on how your individual well-being is tied to the experiences of everyone around you — and vice versa.

As we move into this “new year” together, taking care of ourselves is the absolute first step in taking care of others. After that, it’s “just a jump to the left and then a step to the right.”

Even in a time warp, we all deserve to prioritize holistic health — for ourselves and for each other.

— Alana Walczak is CEO of the nonprofit CALM (Child Abuse Listening Mediation), a leader in developing programs and services that effectively treat child abuse and promote healing, as well as programs that help prevent abuse through family strengthening and support. Click here for more information, or call 805.965.2376. Click here for previous columns. The opinions expressed are her own.

Alana Walczak is CEO of the nonprofit CALM (Child Abuse Listening Mediation), a leader in developing programs and services that effectively treat child abuse and promote healing, as well as programs that help prevent abuse through family strengthening and support. Click here for more information, or call 805.965.2376. The opinions expressed are her own.