Transcript
Attention! Translation was done using AI, mistakes are possible
KA: No one prepared you, as a professional, for the fact that a war would start and you'd have to work with people who have lived through it or are living through it right now. How did you adapt professionally? What did you have to study urgently to help people? Where did you look for information — does it exist, or did you have to try to figure out from scratch how to adapt your sessions to wartime?
IM: You're right, no one prepared me for having to work with people living through war. But I was trained to work with people experiencing grief, loss, the loss of their foundations and the collapse of their values, a reassessment of their entire lives. I just had to put it all together into one puzzle and scale it up. In terms of obvious "professional development" — I've had to seek out every possible resource on working with sexual violence during war. The experience of colleagues from Donbas and the North Caucasus helps. We gather whatever we can from all over.
KA: Many of those who managed to leave the war zones feel ashamed to keep living, feel guilty for having gotten out while others didn't. How do you work with those who had to leave?
IM: More often, guilt over the ability to continue living "normally" is felt by those who were inclined to punish themselves for every sin even before the war. War introduces few new phenomena into therapy, but it highlights a great many that already existed. So I work the same way as before and remind clients that grief is not a big pie — just because they take a piece for themselves, there won't be any less of it in the world. Joy, on the other hand, is very much a pie, and it needs to be multiplied.
KA: How do you work with people who are right now under shelling or in the immediate vicinity of combat? What methods do you use with them?
IM: If a person is directly under shelling, they usually aren't up for therapy. I simply stay in touch with these clients via text, reminding them to eat and drink, to breathe, to stretch their arms and legs, to sleep as much as they can. But that's essentially the main working method right now — we don't dig deep into the trauma, we don't pick at emotions. The person builds psychological defenses for themselves, freezes their feelings — this is helping them survive right now, and I have no right to tear down those supports. I work with bodily symptoms and sensations, and help with practical advice on things like how to deal with panic attacks or how to get through a conflict with relatives.
KA: You wrote on Instagram about how one of the big questions in therapy right now is how to work with the fact that not only is there a war going on, but violence is happening too. Tell us more about this and about how you think you'll approach it.
IM: War is profound stress. Both for those who have never experienced it and for those who already have. I don't even know who has it worse. There are people who in 2014 fled the war from eastern Ukraine to central areas, and now they have to flee again. An enormous shock to the psyche. On the other hand, violence is also profound stress — an extremely traumatizing event. It turns out the person is simultaneously experiencing a brutal violation of boundaries on multiple levels: personal, physical, collective, territorial. So, roughly speaking, I work using the old protocols, but taking into account that the trauma has been amplified several times over.
KA: You post various guides on social media. How do readers react to them? How did you decide to start making them?
IM: These guides usually come to me toward the end of the workday. I have clients from different countries, in different situations — some have left, some have stayed, Russians, Ukrainians, of different ages and with varying degrees of familiarity with war. Often during sessions an important phrase emerges that helps a particular client in their specific situation. At the end of the day, I gather them into one guide, and it becomes a collection of things that matter to a large group of people. Most people react positively, thanking me for the valuable reminders. But there are always people who, you know, are like passengers in a minibus — it's either too drafty or too stuffy for them. They'll find something to nitpick. But they're under every post, not just the guides.
KA: Tell us about your position on the importance of feminist issues in today's conditions.
IM: Once again, the war has illuminated what was already in the world and what was already inside me. I'm a feminist. I work extensively with women and do a lot to help women feel a sense of inner support and the right to express themselves in any way they choose. And what's happening now — violence, the suppression of rights, stereotypical thinking — is not new. It's just that a very bright spotlight is shining on all of it right now. It's bitter that it comes at such a price, but it forces people to change their perspective and help.
KA: You also wrote about the importance of everyday habits and their transformation in wartime conditions. Tell us about that.
IM: Everyday life is our anchor and our stability at all times. Our habits, the things that surround us, the rituals we create for ourselves, our daily routine. When the big foundations crumble, the small ones remain — doing a load of laundry, washing your face with cleanser in the evening, having a cup of tea in the morning. It's very important to maintain at least some sense of stability; otherwise the psyche can't withstand that kind of pressure.
At the same time, I always remind my followers and clients that some habits can actually make things worse if they required a certain effort in peacetime. Right now, all internal and external effort is directed at survival, at adaptation, at simply — forgive me — not losing your mind. If you add daily reading in another language or, say, forty squats on top of that, it can only worsen your inner state and drain the last important bit of energy. So you need to observe carefully and choose your stabilizers and anchors with care.
KA: How should Ukrainians cope with the large amount of aggression coming from people in Russia? Do many people encounter it?
IM: Since February 24, fifty million Ukrainians have been facing aggression from people in Russia on a daily basis. I don't think that against this backdrop many people pay attention to comments on the internet. People are used to bots, used to unhinged individuals — right now it only sustains their fighting spirit. Through hatred and Russophobia, unfortunately, but in war you don't get to choose. For those who are affected by aggression from Russians, I remind them that these are defense mechanisms across a spectrum, and that this aggression isn't actually directed at you. Shulman explained identification with the aggressor well and simply: "I'll side with the abuser so I don't get hurt."
KA: An acute rejection of everything Russian is a normal reaction right now. What do you think will happen in this regard going forward?
IM: Yes, Russophobia is thriving right now and sustains our strength and faith in a swift victory. Unfortunately, you can't win a war with great love and compassion for the enemy. It's hard for me to predict — I believe this intensity will subside, but the previous attitude toward Russians and Russian culture will never return. That's certain.
KA: People in Ukraine are starting to get used to both the shelling and the sirens. On one hand, this is good — it's a healthy reaction to adapt. On the other hand, you can lose your vigilance this way; your sensitivity becomes dulled. In these conditions, how can one both stay connected to the real threat and protect one's psyche?
IM: As my supervisor says: "If the missile hits, it won't hurt anymore, and if it misses, it's even pleasant." People who are in the immediate combat zone don't lose their vigilance, believe me. They simply don't have that option — the sounds of bombs exploding or shells hitting neighboring buildings are not a siren; it's virtually impossible to get used to them and stay calm. And people who are currently in relatively safe and liberated areas probably couldn't protect themselves any better than they already do. They can stay vigilant and run to the basement every time — but that's the risk of being buried under rubble. They can stay vigilant and run to the hallway or the bathroom — but no double wall will save them from a shell. It's terrifying to say, but it's either luck or it isn't. So in cases where you can't make yourself any safer, it's better to adapt and give yourself at least a little rest.
KA: You yourself are in Ukraine. How do you work in these conditions?
IM: I close the windows tighter so the sirens don't interfere with the session... I'm joking, of course. I discussed with my clients that at any moment either of us can cancel a session free of charge — if there's a siren, if something has struck nearby, or if the anxiety is just too overwhelming and there's no energy to work. In many ways, the fact that I'm in Ukraine turns out to be healing. In the sense that my words seem to carry more weight, as if I'm speaking on behalf of Ukrainians. It's important for clients from Russia to hear that I'm not angry at them and don't blame them — and that is therapeutic for them. To clients who feel guilty that they're not under shelling, I say: "I'm here, with you, even though there's a war in my country. Your problems are no less important — I care about you." Of course, this doesn't work in every case.
KA: Working with those who have been traumatized by war is very traumatic for you as well. How do you cope with this?
IM: No, the work is not traumatic for me. The war is equally traumatic for my clients and for me, but the work is equally healing. In professional circles, everyone knows this, but for people "off the street" it's a surprise — the therapist heals through the client. It's a big topic, and now is not the time to unpack it. I'll simply say that every client's exhale, every moment of their relief, every permission to grieve helps me too.
