October 7 occurred 332 days ago. In the war that broke out since then, more than 1,630 civilians and foreigners have been killed, including over 700 soldiers, and more than 140,000 civilians have been displaced from their homes in the Gaza envelope and on the northern confrontation line. Over 100 hostages are still being held by Hamas.
Israelis – regardless of political stance – entered the difficult campaign already significantly fractured in terms of national unity, faith in the path, and confidence in leadership. Arguments were held in raised tones during protests, in public and private discourse, in the Knesset, and in the media.
After the severe events of Simchat Torah, we all had to face a new world – wounded, yet angry and lacking security. Already the next day, statements were made about a "nation in post-trauma," which later became a widespread focus on how to deal with ongoing national trauma. Deaths occur daily, injuries continue, the lack of secure homes in the envelope and the north remains, the economic crisis worsens, and the failure to return all the hostages continues to impact us every day.

On the first day of the new school year, we faced an especially difficult day amidst the ongoing terrible events we are dealing with. The IDF and Shin Bet located and returned on Saturday night the bodies of six hostages: Carmel Gat, Eden Yerushalmi, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, Alexander Lubanov, Almog Sarusi, and Ori Danino, of blessed memory, to Israeli soil after they were brutally murdered following nearly a year of captivity. This event triggered an exceptionally high wave of grief, pain, and anger, expressed, among other things, in furious protests and a deep sense of despair and loss of direction.
How do we cope with ongoing trauma that does not disappear and does not end? How can we deal with recurring waves of trauma? Is it permissible to rejoice with our children as they start school despite the heavy mourning and pain? These are questions that have accompanied us to some extent for nearly a year, and the only guiding principle for coping is one: maintaining functional continuity as much as possible.
To understand this seemingly impossible recommendation, we must first realize that coping with any trauma is like balancing scales. On one side of the scale is the difficult event and its demands. On the other side are our resources. Among the resources are friends, family, community, security, satiety, shelter, and more.
Trauma becomes impossible to cope with when the event's demands exceed the resources available to face it. In such cases, our coping "battery," which may have been nearly empty beforehand, becomes entirely depleted.
Because this trauma is continuous and comes in waves, each one of us must ask ourselves what replenishes our resources so that we can maintain balance. After a brief surge of grief, anger, or any other response to the blows we endure, we must ensure we are replenishing those resources – "recharging the battery."

Some may draw strength from spending time with friends, others from being with family, some from a walk by the sea, engaging in sports, or praying in a synagogue. What has helped us over the years in our daily lives is the foundation of our functional continuity. It is incredibly difficult to find meaning in these actions – how can one enjoy time with friends when soldiers are dying in Gaza? How can we find pleasure in sport when citizens from the Nova party are still held hostage? It's difficult but necessary.
As the fighting and suffering drag on, the more vital it becomes to engage in activities that fill us – without guilt or shame. Often, such activities will feel irrelevant or shallow, but once they become a habit again, a little meaning and strength will return, and this routine will recharge us and enable us to cope with ongoing events and recurring trauma.
This continuity is essential for us and doubly so for parents of young children. As parents, we bear the responsibility to reflect to our children that, although we are going through a difficult time (according to their age), it is still permissible to be happy about the new backpack, the new book, the wrapped notebooks, and the beginning of school. Such joy will convey to them that even in these hard times, there is routine, and it's okay to laugh, sing, and have fun without feeling guilty.
Professor Eyal Fruchter is co-founder and medical director of ICAR-Collective as well as chairman of the National Council for Trauma and a psychiatric consultant at Femi Company.