People seem to be carrying a certain kind of fatigue these days. It’s evident in the slow exhale that precedes someone opening the news app and in the way that conversations at dinner inadvertently veer toward distant events. It’s neither quite fear nor quite grief. The low hum of a world that no longer pretends to be steady sits in between the two. The emotion beneath it is referred to by therapists as existential.
Of course, existential fear is nothing new. Since Frankl wrote about meaning and Kierkegaard wrote about dread, it has been studied. Maybe the volume is different. Instead of responding to a single threat, the majority of people now respond to a stream of overlapping, layered threats that are delivered hourly on tiny, glowing rectangles that they keep close at hand, even at night. It’s difficult to ignore how the body now reacts to a phone notification in the same way that it used to react to a door slamming open. Raising a hand, the nervous system silently inquires as to whether this is the time to brace.
| Topic Profile: Managing Existential Fear | Details |
|---|---|
| Subject | Therapist-guided strategies for existential anxiety and a destabilised sense of safety |
| Core Approach | Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), somatic and grounding work |
| Common Triggers | News overload, geopolitical uncertainty, climate anxiety, post-pandemic unease, personal trauma |
| Key Technique | The 3-3-3 Rule, lengthened exhales, the Butterfly Hug, scheduled news consumption |
| Physiological Target | Calming the parasympathetic nervous system out of fight-or-flight |
| Warning Signs | Persistent hopelessness, intrusive thoughts about death, sleep disruption, withdrawal |
| Recommended Therapies | CBT, existential therapy, somatic-focused therapy, ACT |
| When to Seek Help | When daily functioning — sleep, work, relationships — is consistently disrupted |
| Disclaimer | Informational guide; does not replace professional medical advice |
The first thing that therapists usually say is that you can’t use logic to get out of this. They say this almost simultaneously. Since a body in fight-or-flight mode is incapable of reasoning, the body must be addressed first. That’s why small, almost unglamorous techniques appear in sessions all over the world. The 3-3-3 rule asks you to move three body parts, identify three objects you can see, and identify three sounds. Extended exhalations, such as four inhalations and six or eight exhalations, stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system. The Butterfly Hug, in which crossed arms alternately tap the shoulders, is a calming technique that, until you try it, is almost embarrassingly easy. The world won’t be improved by any of these. They’re not supposed to. Their purpose is to distract you from the alarm long enough to reflect.
The issue of information itself comes next. Clinicians have become more forthright in stating that the brain is under a kind of low-grade siege due to constant news exposure. Plan your news. Once or twice every day. Not right before bed, when the combination of doomscrolling and insomnia virtually ensures that the following morning will begin with a deficit. The accounts that benefit from amplification should be muted. Speaking with therapists who focus on anxiety, it seems like curating your own feed has subtly evolved into a public health competency.
The next helpful thing is small, intentional action, which is easier to do but more difficult to identify. Existential anxiety frequently develops in the space between your fears and your abilities. That gap can be somewhat reduced by drawing two columns on paper. On the one hand, your routine, your kindness, your sleep, and what you read are all under your control. Conversely, external factors include elections, conflicts, the weather, and other individuals. After a difficult news cycle, people who volunteer or donate are metabolizing their emotions rather than avoiding them. In particular, routine is often underappreciated. Mornings that are familiar have a way of letting the body know that nothing has changed.
Naturally, just because you’ve grounded the body and curated the feed doesn’t mean that emotions go away. They must be given names. Surprisingly, saying “I feel anxious” is a form of intervention because neuroscientists have demonstrated that merely labeling an emotion reduces its intensity. Keeping a journal is beneficial. Talking to someone also helps—not to find answers, but to share rather than absorb the weight of uncertainty.
There’s also the slower, more extensive task of meaning-making. Existential therapists, such as Yalom, Frankl, and May in the earlier tradition, consistently emphasize that uncertainty is a feature of the system rather than a flaw in it. Accepting it, even in part, relieves the desperate need for control. Look for what therapists are now referring to as “glimmers”—the tiny, nearly imperceptible moments of beauty or relief throughout the day. Get back in touch with your true values. Take one tiny action that is consistent with it.
The point at which self-help gives way to expert assistance is when sleep keeps slipping, work seems far away, or hopelessness has turned into a tenant rather than a guest. There is decades of research supporting both existential therapy and cognitive behavioral therapy. It’s still unclear if the world will ever feel safe again. However, therapists maintain that it is still possible to develop a sense of safety that is quieter, internal, and surprisingly portable. When they watch this happen, most people think that’s sufficient to start.