Covid Didn’t Create Our Mental Health Crisis

When Covid arrived and the country shut down, everyone spoke about “the new normal” as if the shift we were facing was simply about working from home, standing in supermarket queues, or learning to sanitise everything we touched. The truth is far more uncomfortable. The pandemic did not create our mental health crisis,  it exposed it. It forced people to sit with themselves in ways they had avoided for years. It stripped away the distractions, the routines, the coping mechanisms, and the emotional noise that allowed so many South Africans to pretend they were fine. Addiction that had been hidden behind functioning careers suddenly became impossible to conceal. Depression that had been masked by busyness surfaced violently. Anxiety grew louder as the world grew smaller. Covid did not introduce these issues,  it revealed what people had been running from long before the pandemic arrived.

Addicts Know This Lesson Well

Before Covid, most South Africans believed they had control over their lives. Control over their work. Control over their choices. Control over their future. Control over their emotional stability. It took one global crisis to show how fragile those assumptions really were. Lockdown made it clear that control is something people only believe they have when life is running smoothly. The moment everything changed, many realised they had built their emotional security on a set of assumptions rather than a solid foundation. For people in addiction recovery, this revelation was not new. They learned long ago that control is the first illusion to collapse. Addiction forces people to face the truth that pretending to be in control is not the same as being in control. Covid exposed that same painful lesson to the rest of the world,  you can only work with what stands in front of you, not with the fantasy of what life is supposed to look like.

The Emotional Crash of Isolation

When lockdown started, attention focused mostly on families with obvious vulnerabilities. What went overlooked was the collapse happening behind the closed doors of those who appeared stable. High-functioning adults who relied on routine, social affirmation, or external structure suddenly found themselves stripped of everything that kept them balanced. The silence inside the home felt deafening. The lack of noise removed the emotional padding they had depended on. Unresolved trauma had nowhere to hide. Isolation magnified every unspoken fear, every suppressed emotion, and every unhealthy coping mechanism. In South Africa, a country where emotional avoidance is often disguised as strength, isolation became a magnifying glass that revealed the emotional cracks people had ignored for years.

The South African Pressure Cooker, Job Loss, Violence, Liquor Bans, and Emotional Fallout

Unlike many countries, South Africa’s lockdown took place in a context already overloaded with instability. Job losses hit households brutally. Liquor bans created a dangerous dynamic for individuals who were physically dependent on alcohol and now forced into withdrawal without medical help. Domestic violence surged as families were trapped in confined spaces with unresolved conflict. Financial strain became a daily threat. The emotional storm that formed during lockdown was not simply the result of Covid, but the meeting point of multiple crises at once. This environment became a pressure cooker where addiction, anxiety, and emotional exhaustion intensified rapidly, and the weakest coping mechanisms became the most heavily relied upon.

Withdrawal Doesn’t Care About Politics

If there was ever a moment that exposed South Africa’s misunderstanding of addiction, it was the liquor ban. Many people mocked those who panicked about access to alcohol, assuming it was simply entitlement or habit. Meanwhile, emergency rooms across the country reported a surge in alcohol withdrawal cases, ranging from severe tremors to life-threatening seizures. For individuals physically dependent on alcohol, the liquor ban was not an inconvenience,  it was a medical crisis. Withdrawal is dangerous, unpredictable, and potentially fatal. The ban accidentally forced many people to confront their addiction far earlier than they would have otherwise. It was a harsh reminder that withdrawal does not wait for political decisions, and that addiction is not merely a lifestyle choice but a medical condition that needs professional intervention.

The Denial Problem

One of the most damaging myths in South Africa is the belief that addiction only becomes real when it looks catastrophic. Many families convince themselves that their loved one cannot be addicted because they still have a job, still pay the bills, still appear socially acceptable, and still manage to function. This idea, that addiction must announce itself dramatically, keeps families stuck in denial for years. Lockdown shattered this illusion. People who once looked stable began showing symptoms that were impossible to overlook,  shaking hands, irritability, mental fog, defensiveness, secrecy, and emotional withdrawal. Families discovered that waiting for “rock bottom” only gives addiction more time to entrench itself. Covid revealed that addiction does not always collapse suddenly,  sometimes it erodes slowly until one day the person cannot pretend anymore.

Mental Health Relapse Triggers Hit Everyone

Lockdown created a wave of relapse behaviours across the country, not only among recovering addicts but among people who had never considered themselves vulnerable. Emotional eating became a coping mechanism. Compulsive scrolling on social media replaced meaningful connection. Excessive working became a distraction. People turned to gambling, pornography, or online shopping to numb the sense of uncertainty. Alcohol consumption increased in homes where drinking had never been an issue before. These behaviours mirrored early addiction patterns, highlighting that under stress, people gravitate toward whatever gives quick relief. The idea that only addicts struggle with compulsive behaviour collapsed when society found itself reaching for nearly anything that offered temporary comfort.

H.A.L.T. in Real Life, When Basic Needs Become Mental Health Threats

The concept of HALT, hungry, angry, lonely, tired,is well known in recovery circles, but lockdown turned it into a national condition. Many households faced food insecurity, amplifying stress. Anger became a normal emotional state as frustration, confinement, and fear intensified. Loneliness reached unprecedented levels, even in homes where people lived together, because emotional connection evaporated under pressure. Exhaustion became chronic as the uncertainty stretched from weeks into months. HALT was not just a relapse trigger,  it became the baseline emotional climate of the country. This explains the impulsive decisions, the emotional volatility, and the overwhelming sense of mental fatigue that lasted long after lockdown ended.

Toxic Positivity and the Myth of Pandemic Self-Improvement

Social media platforms became flooded with messages encouraging people to use lockdown to reinvent themselves,  learn a skill, transform your body, build a business, or emerge as a better version of yourself. This narrative created enormous pressure at a time when emotional resources were already depleted. People who were barely coping felt ashamed for not “thriving.” Individuals battling addiction or depression were bombarded with unrealistic expectations. The truth is that crisis does not require self-improvement,  it requires stability, grounding, and realistic self-compassion. Recovery has always taught that progress happens quietly, gradually, and imperfectly, not through forced positivity or public performance.

Why Lockdown Pushed Recovering Addicts to the Edge

For people in early recovery, structure is everything. Meetings, therapy, routines, accountability, and community support form the backbone of their stability. Lockdown wiped out these anchors overnight. Online meetings became the only option, but not everyone had data, privacy, or emotional energy to participate. Financial pressure increased cravings. Isolation magnified old thought patterns. Without in-person support, many found themselves wrestling with urges that felt impossible to manage alone. When relapse happened, the shame was amplified because people believed they should have “handled it better.” In reality, the world had removed nearly every tool they relied on.

The One-Day-at-a-Time Principle Isn’t Motivational

The phrase “one day at a time” is often misunderstood as a motivational slogan. In reality, it is a tool for psychological survival. During lockdown, long-term thinking became overwhelming because nobody could predict when the pandemic would end, when jobs would return, or when life would feel stable again. Focusing on long-term outcomes became paralysing. The only sustainable approach was to stay grounded in small, manageable decisions,  the next hour, the next task, the next healthy action. Covid taught society the lesson that addiction recovery has known for decades,  overwhelming situations require small, realistic steps, not grand plans or long-term certainty.

Why Lockdown Made Homes Explosive

South African families carry complex emotional histories. Lockdown forced people with unresolved trauma, generational conflict, and strained relationships into sustained proximity with no escape. Old wounds resurfaced. Power struggles intensified. Household tensions became volatile. Addiction thrives in environments where emotional communication collapses, and lockdown created exactly that environment. Families who would normally avoid confrontation now had no space to hide. The emotional fallout was significant and often silent, with many individuals using substances or compulsive behaviours to cope with the tension inside their homes.

Community, Connection, and South Africa’s Brutal Reality of Disconnection

Addiction and pandemics share a dangerous common thread,  isolation. Lockdown took away casual interactions, support networks, physical touch, and human presence. Even for those connected digitally, the emotional nourishment that comes from in-person connection was missing. South Africa already struggles with emotional fragmentation, and lockdown intensified the sense of disconnection. Recovery thrives in environments of shared vulnerability and support, and the absence of that connection made emotional regulation far more difficult for millions.

Why “Normal” Should Never Be the Goal Again

When people talk about wanting life to return to normal, they often forget that the pre-Covid normal was already filled with burnout, binge drinking, untreated anxiety, toxic work hours, emotional avoidance, and widespread addiction hiding in plain sight. Normal was not healthy. Normal was simply familiar. Covid shattered the illusion that our old ways of coping were sustainable. Instead of longing for the past, the real opportunity lies in questioning why we accepted a version of life that kept so many people emotionally depleted.

The Lockdown Lesson South Africa Missed

The chaos triggered by the liquor ban made it painfully clear that South Africa still misunderstands addiction. Gareth Carter’s frontline experience with WeDoRecover showed how many individuals experienced forced withdrawal because their access to substances disappeared suddenly. This proved the point that addiction is a medical condition that requires structured intervention—not a reflection of character or discipline. The myth that people must “want help” before treatment works has harmed families for decades. The pandemic showed how dangerous that belief is. External pressure from families, workplaces, and even courts is sometimes necessary to push a person into treatment before irreversible damage occurs.

The Shift We Need, Families Must Learn to Raise the Bottom

The idea of “raising the bottom” means not waiting for crisis, collapse, or catastrophe before seeking help. Families often unknowingly prolong addiction by hoping the individual will one day realise the severity of their condition. Covid proved how quickly addiction can escalate when routines disappear. Early intervention saves lives, reduces harm, and preserves relationships. Raising the bottom is not controlling the person,  it is preventing them from falling so far that recovery becomes harder.

Covid Broke the Illusion That We Are Emotionally Self-Sufficient

The pandemic was not simply a global health crisis,  it was an emotional and psychological x-ray that showed exactly where people were struggling long before the world shut down. It exposed the fragility of coping mechanisms, the depth of denial, and the staggering impact of untreated addiction and mental health issues. Recovery has always offered a set of tools that society now desperately needs,  humility, presence, real connection, acceptance, and accountability. If the pandemic taught us anything, it is that nobody heals alone, and nobody is as strong as they pretend to be. The illusion of emotional self-sufficiency collapsed under pressure, revealing the universal truth that we all need support. The question now is whether South Africa will finally stop romanticising control, dismissing addiction, and longing for an unhealthy version of normal, and instead start building a society that values connection, honesty, and accessible help.