TheMindReport

When Healers Face the Same Storm They Treat

Psychologists spent the COVID-19 crisis helping others manage fear, grief, and relentless uncertainty. But who was looking after them? The research paper Depression, anxiety, and stress levels during the COVID-19 pandemic: A longitudinal study among Indonesian psychologists turns the lens onto the healers themselves. It follows a group of 110 Indonesian clinical psychologists across nine months in 2021—one of the most volatile periods of the pandemic—to track changes in their depression, anxiety, and stress levels, and to identify what helped or hurt their mental health along the way.

This longitudinal design matters because mental health during crises isn’t static; it rises and falls with news cycles, case surges, and personal circumstances. The study did more than count symptoms. It also looked at protective factors like age, marital status, personality traits from the Big Five (such as extraversion and conscientiousness), and self-compassion—how kindly people treat themselves in difficult moments. The results challenge a common assumption: that those who counsel others inevitably burn out under shared stress. Instead, the study paints a more nuanced picture of steady mental health with specific risk points, and it spotlights skills and traits that seem to buffer distress. For students, practitioners, and anyone curious about resilience under pressure, this study offers grounded, practical insights into how a caring profession coped during a global emergency.

A Steady Line in a Turbulent Year: What the Data Show

Across three time points from January to October 2021, overall levels of depression, anxiety, and stress among these psychologists did not significantly change. That alone is striking. While many communities reported worsening mental health as the pandemic dragged on, this group held steady. Still, “steady” doesn’t mean symptom-free. At various points, moderate-to-severe symptoms were present in roughly 11%–15% for depression, 23%–31% for anxiety, and 12%–15% for stress. In day-to-day terms, that could look like a psychologist who sleeps poorly before online sessions, notices a tight chest when reading new case updates, or feels too depleted to plan meals after a day of video calls.

Notably, some factors made a measurable difference. Being married and being older were linked to lower distress—likely reflecting the value of steady support at home and the coping tools that tend to accumulate with experience. Certain personality traits stood out as helpful too. Higher openness to experience may have made it easier to adapt to telehealth platforms and creative therapy adjustments; higher extraversion may have offered more social repair during isolation; and higher conscientiousness likely supported routines and boundaries. These acted as protective factors.

Another key finding: stress predicted both anxiety and depression. In practice, when workload pressure or uncertainty spiked, emotional symptoms followed. Self-compassion—being understanding rather than self-critical in tough moments—was associated with lower symptoms at the same time points, though its influence waned over the months. And compared with other populations during COVID-19, the psychologists’ symptom levels were lower overall, suggesting strong coping despite the shared adversity.

Resilience With Conditions: Why These Patterns Matter

How do we make sense of steady mental health among professionals working in a national crisis? One explanation draws from the stress-buffering model: access to resources—skills, routines, social support—softens the blow of ongoing stressors. Psychologists are trained to identify cognitive traps, maintain boundaries, and regulate emotions; those habits likely helped them maintain equilibrium. The finding that conscientiousness and extraversion were protective fits with broader research showing these traits support structure and social connection, both crucial when living rooms became offices and colleagues became tiles on a screen.

At the same time, the data reinforce that stress isn’t just uncomfortable—it’s a driver of anxiety and depression. Consider a psychologist handling a rising caseload of grief-related therapy, troubleshooting internet outages, and managing family health worries. That constant load can narrow coping bandwidth. When stress rose, emotional symptoms followed—a pattern consistent with decades of research linking chronic stress to mood disorders. The message is simple: to reduce anxiety and depression, we must directly manage stress.

The role of self-compassion is especially interesting. Its association with lower symptoms aligns with evidence that treating oneself with kindness reduces rumination and shame. Yet its diminishing impact over time hints at “resource fatigue.” In prolonged crises, even good coping tools can lose power without reinforcement. This echoes findings from disaster psychology, where initial resilience can wane unless people receive restoration—time off, community contact, or renewed purpose.

Finally, the study’s comparison—psychologists faring better than many other groups—suggests profession-specific resilience. Training, peer supervision, and familiarity with telehealth likely offered advantages not available to the general public. Still, the presence of moderate-to-severe symptoms in a meaningful minority recalls earlier research on caregiver fatigue: expertise helps, but it doesn’t immunize. The takeaway is balance. Psychologists can be resilient and at risk at the same time, and systems should support both truths.

Turning Evidence Into Everyday Practice

What can we do with these findings? Start by treating stress as a primary intervention target. In clinics, that means scheduling norms that prevent back-to-back emotionally heavy sessions, embedding brief recovery breaks, and using “psychological PPE” like structured debriefs after challenging cases. For example, a clinic might set a policy: no more than four trauma-focused sessions in a row, followed by a 20-minute reset.

Build on protective factors. For teams, pair less-experienced clinicians with seasoned supervisors who can model boundary setting and flexible problem-solving—leveraging the benefit of age and experience. Offer training that enhances conscientiousness-driven habits, such as weekly planning for telehealth technology checks, session prep templates, and end-of-day rituals to close work mentally when the “office” is home.

Reinforce self-compassion before it fades. Organizations can normalize quick self-compassion exercises—two minutes to name emotions, validate effort, and choose one kind action (a walk, a snack, a phone call). Include “permission scripts” in staff handbooks: language for rescheduling when capacity is low, or for setting boundaries with clients who text after hours.

For businesses and schools, create peer support channels that mimic the protective effects of extraversion. Virtual “coffee rooms,” small-group check-ins, and end-of-week recognition rituals keep social connection alive. In healthcare systems, treat married or caregiving staff with flexible scheduling that acknowledges home demands, since personal support networks matter.

Policy-wise, incorporate mental health monitoring into crisis response. A brief quarterly screen (like DASS-21) for frontline professionals, with immediate referral pathways, catches rising anxiety and depression early. Fund supervision and restorative programs, not just service delivery. And for training programs, teach crisis-specific skills—telehealth ethics, rapid case triage, tech troubleshooting—that translate openness and adaptability into daily practice.

What This Means for the Next Crisis

The central message of this research paper is quietly hopeful: stability is possible even in a long emergency, especially when experience, supportive relationships, and healthy habits are in place. Yet the details matter. Because stress fuels both anxiety and depression, protecting the protectors requires systems that limit overload and replenish coping resources before they erode. The study, Depression, anxiety, and stress levels during the COVID-19 pandemic: A longitudinal study among Indonesian psychologists, shows that resilience isn’t luck—it’s a set of conditions we can build.

As organizations plan for the next public health shock, a simple question can guide decisions: What structures help our people end the day with something left in the tank? If we can answer that—through smart scheduling, supportive culture, and skills that refresh over time—we won’t just weather the storm. We’ll keep the healers healthy enough to keep healing.

Data in this article is provided by PLOS.

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