Staying resilient during hard times

A psychologist’s personal reflections and practical ways to cope when life feels overwhelming

By Elaine Collins | Psychologist | Collins Psychology

Some days, you wake up tired before the day has even started. There are messages to answer, something in the fridge that needs using, a bill you have been avoiding and people who need you. You have plenty of determination. The energy to go with it appears to have taken annual leave. From the outside, you might look as though you are carrying on quite well. Inside, even the small things take effort.

I know that territory. I lost my father just six months before my breast cancer diagnosis. Navigating breast cancer in Spain while carrying that grief, being a mother and trying to hold a sense of myself through uncertainty have brought resilience out of the textbooks and into daily life. There is professional knowledge, and then there is the appointment, the waiting, the tiredness, the family life that continues around it. Being a psychologist gives me a language for some of this. It does not give me immunity.

I have also discovered that dark humour and blatant stubbornness can do a surprising amount of the heavy lifting. They suit me. But determination needs somewhere sensible to go. Otherwise, it becomes another demand placed on an already exhausted person: keep going, stay positive, handle this beautifully, and preferably look reasonably well while doing it.

The approach I want to share begins with the life you actually have. It means noticing what is difficult, adjusting your expectations, using the qualities that help you and getting support where you can. I will explain the psychology, but I also want to show what it looks like on a Tuesday evening when you are tired, dinner needs making and one more request feels like one request too many. Research gives us useful guidance. We still have to make it work in ordinary life.

What resilience means in everyday life

In everyday language, resilience is how we keep finding ways to cope and adapt when life becomes difficult. Researchers describe it in different ways: some look at people who remain relatively steady after adversity, while others focus on how people adjust over time. Your relationships, circumstances and access to help all matter alongside your personal qualities (Bonanno, 2004; Southwick et al., 2014).

Perhaps you are caring for an ageing parent while holding down a job. Perhaps a relationship has ended, money is tight, or your child is having a difficult time at school. There may be no single dramatic event; you are simply carrying too much for too long. You do not need to compare your situation with mine, or anyone else’s, before you are allowed to find it difficult.

That distinction matters because we tend to judge coping by what we can see. Someone is still working, so we assume they are managing. Someone makes a joke, so we assume they are fine. Someone cries, so we assume they are struggling more than the person who remains quiet. These are very thin conclusions about complicated lives. Visible composure tells us little about what a person is carrying or what it costs them to carry it.

I can be determined and tired. I can be grateful for the people around me and frustrated by what is happening. I can understand a situation intellectually and need time to absorb it emotionally. These experiences can exist together without cancelling one another out. When I stop demanding consistency from every feeling, I have more room to respond to the actual situation.

There is also no universal timetable. A difficult day after a steadier week does not automatically mean that your progress has disappeared. Different aspects of life may recover at different speeds. You might manage practical tasks while finding relationships harder, or feel emotionally steadier while your physical capacity remains reduced. Resilience research recognises variation in responses to adversity; it does not justify ranking people by how quickly they appear to recover (Bonanno, 2004).

My working question is therefore quite practical: what would help me live this day with a little more steadiness, dignity or connection? Sometimes the answer is action. Sometimes it is information. Sometimes it is asking someone else to take responsibility for something I do not have the capacity to manage. The answer needs to fit the day I am actually having.

Navigating hard times as a psychologist and a person

There is an odd expectation that psychological knowledge should somehow protect us from psychological pain. If you understand grief, surely you should grieve efficiently. If you teach emotional regulation, surely your own feelings should behave themselves. If you help others build resilience, surely you should navigate your own difficulties with a calm expression and an impressively organised diary.

Think of the person who is excellent at their job but finds an unopened bill overwhelming after a separation. Or the parent who can calmly explain feelings to their child, then loses patience when the shoes go missing for the third morning in a row. Knowing what to do and having the capacity to do it in that moment are different things. There is room to repair, learn and try again.

I do not find that expectation useful. Understanding a process and living through it are different experiences. I can recognise an unhelpful thought while still feeling its pull. I can know that rest matters while feeling impatient with my limitations. I can see why uncertainty is difficult and still wish someone would give me a clear answer. Knowledge offers tools; it does not take away the need to use them.

When I bring my psychologist hat into my own life, I try to be curious rather than critical. What is happening here? What am I expecting of myself? Is that fair today? Those questions help me more than asking whether I am coping well enough. I would much rather understand why something is hard than give myself another telling off for finding it hard.

I also want to make room for the person underneath the professional identity. I am a mother, a daughter, a person with a life I care about. My qualifications do not make those attachments less tender. They help me understand why the stakes feel high. When something important is threatened or lost, the emotional response often tells us something about what matters, even when that response feels inconvenient.

For anyone who is usually the capable one, this can be a difficult adjustment. You may be accustomed to organising, helping, explaining or holding things together. A hard season can ask you to receive the kind of care you normally give. I regard learning to receive that care as part of resilience. Your contribution to other people does not have to be uninterrupted for your worth to remain intact.

Managing difficult emotions when life feels overwhelming

Emotional regulation means working with feelings so we have more choice about how to respond. We might change something about the situation, move our attention or consider another way of understanding what has happened. It involves more than trying to hold everything in once we are already upset (Gross, 1998).

Imagine arriving home after a demanding day. Someone asks what is for dinner, the washing is still in the machine and your child needs help with homework. You hear yourself snap over something small. Afterwards, “I am a terrible parent” might arrive very quickly. A more useful response could be: “I was overloaded and I spoke sharply. I need to apologise, take a few minutes and make tonight simpler.” The apology still matters. So does understanding what needs to change.

Recognising what you are feeling

In practice, I try to begin with accuracy. Am I sad, disappointed, angry, overwhelmed, physically exhausted, or some combination of these? Calling everything stress can make the next step less clear. Anger about a preventable delay may call for a question or a boundary. Sadness may call for company or space. Exhaustion may call for rest and, where appropriate, medical assessment. The same coping response will not meet every need.

I find it useful to separate the feeling from the conclusion attached to it. Feeling overwhelmed does not prove that I cannot manage the next step. Feeling frustrated does not require me to send the message I have just drafted. Feeling low does not tell me everything about the future. A feeling deserves attention without being promoted to the position of sole decision maker.

Pausing before you respond

One practical approach is to pause long enough to name what is present, identify the immediate need and choose a response. That might mean putting the phone down, stepping away from a conversation, having a drink of water or writing down a question before contacting someone. These are ordinary options, not a guaranteed method. Their purpose is to create a little space between intensity and action.

I also allow for feelings that have no immediate solution. There are losses that cannot be reframed into something pleasant. There are situations in which anger is understandable and sadness is appropriate. Emotional regulation can mean allowing an experience to be there while choosing how to care for yourself within it. It does not require making an honest response more socially comfortable for everyone else.

If inward attention or mindfulness makes distress stronger, I would not insist on pushing through it. Looking around the room, speaking to a trusted person or doing a familiar practical task may be more helpful. The important question is whether the response increases your ability to engage with the moment, rather than whether it looks like the technique you thought you were supposed to use.

Building resilience through psychological flexibility

Psychological flexibility is a formal name for something quite practical: being able to adjust when the day, your feelings or your circumstances change, while still making choices that matter to you. Kashdan and Rottenberg (2010) reviewed research showing why this flexibility is relevant to health. A useful response depends on the situation; the same approach will not help every time.

You may have planned to cook a proper dinner, exercise and catch up on emails. Then the day goes sideways. A flexible version might be scrambled eggs on toast, a short walk if you feel up to it, and one essential reply. If your priorities are feeding yourself, looking after your health and meeting a necessary commitment, those priorities are still there. You have adjusted what they look like tonight.

This resonates with me because stubbornness has its uses. It can help me ask another question, pursue information or continue with something important. But there comes a point when the same determination can become expensive. If I keep measuring myself against what I could manage before, I can spend my limited energy arguing with the reality of today.

Flexibility asks me to change the method while staying connected to the value. If being a present mother matters to me, presence does not have to mean an elaborate outing. It may mean a conversation on the sofa. If meaningful work matters, I can reduce the volume without deciding that the work no longer matters. If caring for my health matters, that care must include responding to limitations as well as pursuing improvement.

I use a simple question: is this effort serving something important, or am I trying to prove that nothing has changed? The answer can be uncomfortable. There is grief in recognising that some things have changed. There is also relief in no longer requiring myself to perform an earlier version of my life.

Acceptance, in this context, means acknowledging the present conditions so that my response can be useful. It leaves room for advocacy, treatment, boundaries and change. I can accept that I do not have an answer today while continuing to ask the appropriate person for one. I can recognise that I am tired while still caring about the responsibilities that need to be shared or rescheduled.

For the reader, a useful exercise is to identify one current demand and ask whether its form could change. Could the visit be shorter? Could the task be delegated? Could the conversation happen tomorrow? Could the same value be expressed in a smaller action? Flexibility becomes meaningful when it changes something in the real day, rather than remaining an appealing concept.

Coping with uncertainty and what if thoughts

Waiting can be a demanding part of any difficult experience. Waiting for results, decisions, treatment, clarity or a change in circumstances leaves the mind with plenty of room to construct possibilities. I have found that the practical challenge is deciding what deserves my attention now and what cannot be resolved by another hour of thinking.

Suppose your manager sends “Can we talk tomorrow?” with no explanation. The fact is that your manager wants a conversation. You do not yet know what it is about. “I am going to lose my job” is one possible story your mind supplies. You could reply, “Of course. Is there anything you would like me to prepare?” That gives you a useful question to ask, while leaving space for the answer to be less alarming than your first prediction.

Separating facts from predictions

My approach is to distinguish what I know, what I need to ask and what I am imagining. These belong in different places. A fact can inform a decision. A question can be taken to the right person. An imagined outcome may need compassion and a pause rather than further investigation. Writing the three separately can stop them becoming one large, persuasive story.

For example, a missing confirmation is a practical issue. It calls for checking who is responsible, what information is outstanding and when to follow up. The thought that everything will now go wrong is a prediction. It may feel convincing, but it does not become a fact because it arrived with urgency. I can take the practical issue seriously without giving every prediction equal authority.

I try to give information gathering a purpose. What am I looking for? Will it change a question, a decision or an action? Is this a reliable source? If I have moved from useful research into repetitive searching, I want to recognise that shift. More information is not automatically more support, particularly when it is disconnected from my own circumstances.

There are also times when the next useful step is simply to return to the part of life that is happening now. Eat something. Answer the ordinary message. Sit outside. Spend time with someone whose company does not require a medical update. These actions do not settle the uncertainty. They stop uncertainty from occupying every available corner of the day.

This is a personal application of the broader principle of flexible coping, rather than a promise that a particular exercise will remove anxiety (Kashdan & Rottenberg, 2010). If worry becomes persistent, disrupts sleep or makes daily functioning difficult, a qualified professional can help assess what support is needed. A self help exercise should not become another reason to delay appropriate care.

Staying resilient while living with grief

There were just six months between losing my father and my breast cancer diagnosis. That closeness matters. I was carrying the grief of losing someone I loved while facing questions about my own health. Life had not given me a clear space between the two. Family responsibilities continued, and the calendar moved forward. If you have faced one difficult experience soon after another, you may recognise how much effort it takes to deal with what is happening now while still carrying what came before.

You might be doing the supermarket shop quite normally and suddenly see something the person you lost used to buy. Or you reach for your phone to tell them a piece of news before remembering. A moment like that can change the whole afternoon. Later, you might laugh at a television programme or enjoy a conversation. Both experiences can belong to the same day. Enjoyment does not make the loss less real.

One model of grief describes how we move between dealing with the loss and dealing with everyday life after it. Stroebe and Schut (1999) called this movement oscillation. You might spend part of a day missing someone intensely and another part sorting the shopping or chatting about something ordinary. The model helps explain that movement without expecting grief to look the same all day.

I find that a compassionate framework. It makes room for missing someone deeply and still laughing at something ordinary. It makes room for focusing on an appointment without treating that focus as evidence that grief has ended. You do not have to maintain constant visible sadness to demonstrate that someone mattered.

There can also be grief for changes in your own life: reduced energy, altered plans, a different relationship with your body, or the loss of a future you had expected. These experiences should not be assumed to follow exactly the same process as bereavement. However, naming what has changed can help make sense of feelings that otherwise seem out of proportion to a particular day.

My approach is to avoid forcing every difficult experience into an immediate lesson. Some things are painful because they are painful. Meaning may develop later, or in a form that is quieter than a public statement. I can value what my father meant to me without needing to explain why losing him was somehow necessary for my development.

If you are grieving, consider what kind of space would feel manageable. It might be telling a story, keeping a familiar ritual, speaking to someone who knew the person, or having a period in which you do not need to talk about the loss at all. Significant, persistent distress deserves individual support. There is no virtue in leaving yourself alone with something that has become too much.

Practising self compassion during difficult times

One of the least helpful things I can do during a hard time is turn my reduced capacity into a moral judgement. Tiredness becomes laziness. A cancelled plan becomes failure. A task taking longer becomes evidence that I have lost myself. That interpretation adds a second burden to the first: the difficulty itself, followed by criticism for having difficulty.

Picture waking up after a poor night’s sleep and discovering that you have forgotten a school form or missed a nonurgent email. The critical voice may say, “I cannot even manage the basics.” A fairer response is: “I am tired and I missed something. I can send a message and ask what is needed now.” You are dealing with the mistake without making it a verdict on your competence.

Self compassion means responding to yourself with some kindness when things are hard. It includes remembering that struggle is part of being human and noticing your experience without turning it into a judgement about your whole life. A review combining the results of randomised controlled trials found that self compassion focused interventions could reduce depressive symptoms, anxiety and stress. Results varied, and limitations in the studies mean we should be careful about how much we promise (Han & Kim, 2023).

Speaking to yourself as you would to a friend

The everyday application I favour is straightforward. How would I speak to a person I cared about who was facing these circumstances? Would I demand the same productivity? Would I tell them that needing rest meant they were handling things badly? Usually the answer is clear. The harder part is allowing the same fairness to apply to me.

A compassionate response still leaves room for responsibility. I can acknowledge that I am struggling and make the necessary call. I can recognise that I have been short with someone and repair the conversation. What changes is the tone in which I approach myself. Contempt rarely improves the quality of my next decision.

Taking physical symptoms seriously

I also take care not to explain every physical symptom psychologically. Fatigue, pain, sleep changes and difficulties with concentration can have several causes. During illness, treatment or recovery, changes deserve discussion with the appropriate clinician. Resilience practices may support coping; they do not determine the medical explanation or replace assessment.

For daily life, I start with the basics: food, rest, prescribed care, essential tasks and some form of connection. Movement may be useful when it is medically appropriate and within capacity. That basic plan should be adjustable. I do not want a wellbeing routine so ambitious that it becomes another source of inadequacy. Sometimes the most sensible plan is the one that leaves enough energy for tomorrow.

Asking for support and setting boundaries

The people and resources around us matter when life becomes difficult (Southwick et al., 2014). A large review also found a link between stronger social relationships and survival across the studies it included. That does not mean a particular friendship or act of help will change your medical outcome, but it adds to the evidence that relationships deserve attention in discussions of health (Holt-Lunstad et al., 2010).

“Let me know if you need anything” is kind, but it can leave you with the job of working out what to ask for. If you have someone willing and able to help, try something concrete: “Could you pick up bread and milk?” “Could you take the children for an hour on Saturday?” “Could you sit with me while I make this phone call?” You are giving them a task they can understand, rather than asking them to solve the whole situation.

In my own approach, the useful question is less about how many people I know and more about what kind of support is available. Who can listen without immediately correcting the feeling? Who can help with something practical? Who can offer company that does not require me to be entertaining? Different people may be able to meet different needs.

I find specific requests more workable than hoping someone will intuit the whole situation. Could you collect something for me? Could you come to this appointment? Could you help me organise these questions? Could we talk about something ordinary for a while? A clear request gives the other person a better chance of responding usefully.

There is a vulnerability in being specific. It exposes a need rather than keeping it hidden behind competence. But it also prevents the exhausting cycle of appearing fine, receiving little help and feeling unseen. Other people cannot always tell what is needed from a composed face or a funny message.

Setting limits when your energy is low

Support also needs boundaries. I may not want to repeat an update several times, answer intrusive questions or manage another person's reaction to my news. A short response can be enough: I will share more when I have information; I am keeping today quiet; I appreciate your concern, but I do not have the energy for advice. Protecting access to myself is part of protecting capacity.

Not everyone has dependable support, and that matters. Financial pressure, inaccessible care, unsafe relationships and administrative barriers cannot be corrected by changing your attitude. Resilience should never become a convenient way to blame people for the conditions around them. Where possible, useful support includes practical services and qualified care as well as personal relationships.

Making room for humour and everyday joy

Dark humour remains very much part of how I approach life. It gives me a way to speak about an absurd or difficult situation without making every conversation unbearably heavy. It suits my personality. I would not prescribe it to someone who experiences it differently, and I would not use it to minimise another person's pain.

An ordinary example might be a friend sending you a ridiculous voice note while you are having a rubbish day. You laugh, and for a minute you are simply two friends again. Or you drink your tea while it is still hot, listen to a favourite song or sit by an open window. None of those moments needs to justify itself by making everything better. It is enough that the moment offers something you enjoy.

For me, the question is whether humour creates connection or closes it down. A joke can make an honest conversation possible. It can also become a way to change the subject every time something tender appears. I want room for both: the line that makes us laugh and the sentence that admits what has been hard.

The same applies to small pleasures. Nature, the beach, trees, familiar company and time with my child matter to me. I do not need them to solve the problem before they are allowed to matter. An ordinary enjoyable moment has value even if the circumstances remain difficult afterwards.

This is especially important when life becomes organised around appointments, paperwork and updates. It is easy for your identity to narrow around the challenge. I want to remember that there is still a person here with preferences, interests and a sense of humour. The medical or practical situation is significant; it does not contain everything about me.

I would invite a reader to ask what still feels like them. Music? A familiar programme? A short conversation with an old friend? Sitting somewhere with a view? Choose something available rather than something impressive. There is no need to turn pleasure into a performance of positivity, or to insist on gratitude when what you need first is acknowledgement.

These are personal choices about how to inhabit a difficult day. They are not claims that joy cures illness or that people who struggle to access it are coping poorly. Some days offer very little space. On those days, it may be enough to notice that you would like more ease and consider who or what could help make a little room for it.

Using VIA character strengths during hard times

When life becomes difficult, attention can narrow around what is wrong, missing or no longer possible. A strengths framework offers another line of enquiry: which qualities remain available to me, and how might I use them here? This is why I see value in the VIA Survey of Character Strengths, often called the VIA character strengths test.

You may read the word bravery and picture someone doing something spectacular. In everyday life, it could mean booking an appointment you have been putting off or telling your employer you are struggling. Creativity might mean finding a cheaper way to make a family day enjoyable. Perseverance might mean completing a difficult form in ten minute sessions. These examples are ways to recognise strengths in ordinary actions; you do not have to be extraordinary to have useful qualities.

The VIA framework describes 24 character strengths: qualities such as curiosity, bravery, kindness, fairness, perseverance, hope and humour. In the survey, you answer questions about yourself and receive a profile based on your answers. You can take the free official survey through the VIA Institute on Character at https://www.viacharacter.org/ (VIA Institute on Character, n.d.-a, n.d.-b).

Understanding your VIA survey results

I would treat the results as a starting point for reflection. They are not a diagnosis, a measure of your worth or a prediction of how well you will cope with adversity. They reflect your answers to the questionnaire. Your interpretation should also consider your circumstances, examples from your life and whether the descriptions actually feel useful.

Likewise, a lower ranked strength should not be read as a defect. A profile is not a report card requiring improvement in every category. It can be more useful to recognise a few qualities you already use and consider how they might support the present situation. You can also draw on a strength that is not near the top of your profile when the context calls for it.

There is research supporting strengths based activities. Randomised studies have examined exercises such as using signature strengths in new ways and reported benefits for happiness and depressive symptoms in studied samples (Proyer et al., 2015; Seligman et al., 2005). This is encouraging, but it does not establish that taking the survey alone produces resilience or that these activities are treatments for cancer, grief or every mental health difficulty.

It is also helpful to distinguish an assessment from what happens afterwards. Knowing the name of a strength may be interesting. Using it deliberately is the practical work. If curiosity ranks highly, what would useful curiosity look like this week? If kindness is prominent, where could it include your own needs? If perseverance matters, what is worth persisting with, and what is costing more than it gives?

Humour and determination are familiar parts of my approach. I can recognise them in my life without claiming that they are my highest ranked VIA strengths. A questionnaire can offer a useful perspective, but I still want to examine how a quality works in practice. The value lies in that honest examination, rather than in claiming a flattering label.

Putting your character strengths into practice

The first step I suggest is to choose one specific challenge. Keep it small enough to work with: preparing for a difficult conversation, facing a day of uncertainty, asking for help, or managing an overloaded week. Trying to use your strengths to fix your entire life is likely to leave you with a concept rather than an action.

Consider someone whose finances have become tight. If judgement is a strength they recognise, they might use it to list their bills, check which deadlines matter most and seek appropriate advice. If bravery feels more familiar, their next step might be making a call they have been avoiding to ask about available support. The same problem can invite different strengths. The action also needs to fit the practical situation; a strengths exercise cannot create money that is not there.

Next, choose a strength that could help with that challenge. Bravery might support asking a direct question. Judgement might help you compare reliable information. Curiosity might help you understand an unfamiliar process without assuming the worst. Kindness might shape the way you speak to yourself after a demanding day. These are examples of possible applications, not instructions everyone must follow.

Then decide what you will actually do. If you choose bravery, write down the question you have avoided and ask it at the next appropriate opportunity. If you choose kindness, remove one unnecessary demand and speak to yourself as fairly as you would to a friend. Make the action small enough to do with the energy and time you have.

Knowing when a strength needs balance

I would also consider the amount of a strength b_eing used. More is not always better. Strengths practice literature discusses the importance of context and the possibility of overuse or underuse (Niemiec & Pearce, 2021). My practical interpretation is that a quality can be helpful in one form and costly in another.

For example, perseverance may help me follow up a necessary request. Used without regard for capacity, it may encourage me to continue when I need rest. Kindness may help me maintain connection, but it can become costly if I say yes to everyone while neglecting my own limits. Curiosity may lead to a useful question; unbounded searching may leave me overloaded. Humour may ease a conversation, but I do not want it to prevent every honest sentence.

One way to respond is to pair strengths. Perseverance with judgement can help me choose what deserves effort. Kindness with fairness can remind me that my needs count too. Humour with honesty can make space for laughter and a clear account of what I am experiencing. These pairings are reflective exercises, rather than a validated formula for coping.

Finally, review the result without grading yourself. Did the action help? Was it too large? Did it fit the situation? Would another strength be more useful next time? A strengths exercise should increase choice, not create a new standard you can fail. If the language does not fit, you can use ordinary words instead. You do not need a questionnaire score to ask what qualities would help you take the next step.

Making a manageable plan for difficult days

In research on children’s development, Masten (2001) described resilience as growing from ordinary sources of support and adaptation, such as dependable relationships. She called this ordinary magic. Her work was not a test of a daily routine for adults facing illness. The useful reminder I take from it is to look at the everyday things that help us function, rather than expect an extraordinary change in ourselves.

For an overloaded working parent, a manageable day might include getting everyone fed, doing the most important work task and asking someone to help with the school run. The clean washing can stay in the basket. For someone living alone after a loss, it might mean eating lunch, opening one letter and speaking to a friend. Your essential tasks will depend on your circumstances. The aim is to make a workable plan, with fewer demands competing for the same small amount of energy.

My practical approach is to make the day less crowded. What is essential? What can wait? What could someone else do? What needs a professional answer? I want these questions answered before every task becomes urgent simply because it is visible. A full list is not the same as a list of obligations that must be completed today.

I also try to make room for one meaningful action. That might be a conversation, a manageable piece of work, time with my child or an honest request. Meaningful does not have to mean productive. It means the action connects with something I care about and is realistic under the circumstances.

Reflecting on the day without judging yourself

At the end of the day, I prefer reflection to prosecution. What made things slightly easier? What was more demanding than expected? What support do I need tomorrow? There may be something to adjust. There may also be a day that was simply hard. I do not need to turn every difficult evening into an investigation of my personal shortcomings.

Some periods require more than a daily plan. If distress is persistent, functioning is seriously affected, relationships feel unsafe or coping relies increasingly on alcohol or other harmful strategies, individual assessment is important. Seeking qualified support is a response to the situation, not a confession that you have failed at resilience. Medical symptoms and psychological distress both deserve appropriate attention.

The purpose of these ideas is to widen the options available to you. Choose one that fits. Leave what does not. You may need rest before reflection, practical help before a strengths exercise, or professional care before a self help routine. The order matters because the person and the circumstances matter.

Keeping a sense of yourself through hard times

I want to speak about resilience in a way that leaves room for real people. People with busy brains, families, grief, complicated histories and bodies that do not always cooperate with their plans. People who are handling a great deal, even when their energy gives very little indication of their determination.

Perhaps your next useful step is a message that says, “I have been having a difficult time. Could we talk?” Perhaps it is putting tomorrow’s appointment details in one place, or deciding that tonight’s dinner can be very simple. These actions can look small beside the size of what you are facing. They still count because they help you meet a real part of it.

For me, navigating hard times involves using what I know without demanding that I become less human. It means asking clear questions, reconsidering unfair expectations, protecting capacity and keeping room for the parts of life that still feel like mine. It means allowing humour to remain, allowing support to matter and being willing to have conversations that are difficult but necessary.

I do not need to emerge from every challenge with a more impressive story. I want to remain connected to the people and values I care about, make informed decisions and treat myself with enough respect to recognise what I need. That is a substantial task. It deserves more care than a slogan about staying strong can offer.

If you are in a hard season, consider beginning with a smaller question than how to become resilient. What is making today harder than it needs to be? Which part can be changed? Who could help? Which quality in you could support one useful action? The answer may be modest. Modest answers can still matter when they meet a real need.

Build practical resilience skills with me

If this article resonates with you and you would like to work with me through my educational programs and evidence informed skills training, send me a message through my website: https://www.collinspsychology.com/contact-us.

Tell me a little about what you are navigating and what you would like help understanding or developing. Whether your interest is emotional regulation, ADHD related challenges or practical resilience skills, we can explore which of my current educational offerings may be suitable. I value thoughtful conversations and approaches that make sense in ordinary life, including when ordinary life is asking a great deal of you.

‍

‍

Medical and psychological disclaimer

This article provides general education and personal reflection. It is not medical advice, a diagnosis, individual psychological treatment or a substitute for advice from your doctor, treating team or a suitably qualified mental health professional. Research findings describe results in particular populations and do not guarantee an individual outcome. The VIA survey is a reflective self report tool, not a diagnostic assessment. Psychological coping strategies do not treat cancer or determine its course, and distress or difficulty coping does not mean you have caused your illness or compromised recovery.

Discuss new, persistent or worsening physical symptoms, including fatigue, pain or sleep changes, with your treating clinician. Seek individual mental health support if distress is persistent or significantly affects daily life. Adjust activities to your medical circumstances and follow your treating team's guidance. Collins Psychology educational programs and its website contact form are not crisis services. If you are in immediate danger, have a medical emergency or feel unable to keep yourself safe, contact local emergency services or attend the nearest emergency department; in Australia, Ireland and Spain, call 112.

‍

‍

References

Bonanno, G. A. (2004). Loss, trauma, and human resilience: Have we underestimated the human capacity to thrive after extremely aversive events? American Psychologist, 59(1), 20–28. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.59.1.20

Gross, J. J. (1998). The emerging field of emotion regulation: An integrative review. Review of General Psychology, 2(3), 271–299. https://doi.org/10.1037/1089-2680.2.3.271

Han, A., & Kim, T. H. (2023). Effects of self-compassion interventions on reducing depressive symptoms, anxiety, and stress: A meta-analysis. Mindfulness, 14, 1553–1581. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12671-023-02148-x

Holt-Lunstad, J., Smith, T. B., & Layton, J. B. (2010). Social relationships and mortality risk: A meta-analytic review. PLOS Medicine, 7(7), Article e1000316. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pmed.1000316

Kashdan, T. B., & Rottenberg, J. (2010). Psychological flexibility as a fundamental aspect of health. Clinical Psychology Review, 30(7), 865–878. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2010.03.001

Masten, A. S. (2001). Ordinary magic: Resilience processes in development. American Psychologist, 56(3), 227–238. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.56.3.227

Niemiec, R. M., & Pearce, R. (2021). The practice of character strengths: Unifying definitions, principles, and exploration of what's soaring, emerging, and ripe with potential in science and in practice. Frontiers in Psychology, 11, Article 590220. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2020.590220

Proyer, R. T., Gander, F., Wellenzohn, S., & Ruch, W. (2015). Strengths-based positive psychology interventions: A randomized placebo-controlled online trial on long-term effects for a signature strengths- vs. a lesser strengths-intervention. Frontiers in Psychology, 6, Article 456. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2015.00456

Seligman, M. E. P., Steen, T. A., Park, N., & Peterson, C. (2005). Positive psychology progress: Empirical validation of interventions. American Psychologist, 60(5), 410–421. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.60.5.410

Southwick, S. M., Bonanno, G. A., Masten, A. S., Panter-Brick, C., & Yehuda, R. (2014). Resilience definitions, theory, and challenges: Interdisciplinary perspectives. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 5(1), Article 25338. https://doi.org/10.3402/ejpt.v5.25338

Stroebe, M., & Schut, H. (1999). The dual process model of coping with bereavement: Rationale and description. Death Studies, 23(3), 197–224. https://doi.org/10.1080/074811899201046

VIA Institute on Character. (n.d.-a). The 24 character strengths. https://www.viacharacter.org/character-strengths

VIA Institute on Character. (n.d.-b). VIA character strengths survey and character reports. https://www.viacharacter.org/