On March 13, my main concern was adjusting to a new normal of co-working with my husband in our 700-square-foot apartment as New York City began imposing stricter social distancing guidelines to flatten the curve, or mitigate the spread of the coronavirus, also known as COVID-19.

One week later, I got furloughed from my corporate job. Part of me saw it coming, as emails from CEOs regarding their “difficult decisions” inundated my inbox. Even so, the news hit me hard. The fear and anxiety of COVID-19 now compounded by the fear and anxiety of unemployment was too much. The disruption to everyday life materialized too fast, too soon.

I lost it.

For a week, I’d randomly burst into tears. I sobbed while talking to my husband, cooking dinner, texting my friends, in the shower, and even when trying to go for a run to clear my head. Note to self: Do not go running when you’re in a state of emotional distress, and certainly not while listening to a podcast about the grim reality of a pandemic.

Even still, I know I’m more fortunate than many people—especially those who have been completely laid off, who have more than two mouths to feed, and of course, those who have suffered from the virus itself. But with New York City rent, credit card payments, and crushing student loan debt to manage, my partner and I were not financially prepared for one of us to lose an income stream.

On top of that, I was having an existential breakdown. Rational me knew that losing my job was not a reflection of my performance or talent or skill set. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feelings of worthlessness. That I had somehow failed. Unemployment is one of the scariest prospects in life. Losing your job can make you feel like you've lost your identity, which in turn could lead to a loss of self-worth.

How do I, and the millions of others like me, cope with these awful new feelings? “We have to remember that we are multidimensional,” says Laura Braider, PhD, director of the Behavioral Health College Partnership at Northwell Health. “There are other parts that make you who you are; allow those identities to build you back up.”

According to Pew Research Center, a third of Americans say they or someone in their household has lost their job or suffered a reduction in pay or work hours because of the coronavirus. While there’s comfort in knowing that it’s not just me, I feel a great unease from the exponentially rising unemployment numbers.

So how should we—the unemployed—be handling our emotions, especially when long-term unemployment may be a likely reality for many? For starters, we shouldn’t feel guilty for feeling anxious or depressed. “Allow yourself to feel sad,” Braider says. “Allow yourself to label the emotion and feel it.”

“These emotions are adaptive,” she says. “If we’re not feeling anxious, then we’re not motivated to avoid people during this pandemic; we’re not motivated to find a job. Anxiety is adaptive but it’s not a pleasant feeling.”

At the same time, just because we’re feeling unpleasant emotions doesn’t mean we have to wait until we find a job to experience happiness again. Braider suggests allowing yourself to seek pleasurable experiences throughout the day, no matter how small they may be, like eating comfort food or lying in the sun.

Talking about it also helps. For me, it’s an emotional release each time I tell a friend or family member about my furlough.

“When we make ourselves vulnerable, we no longer feel shame,” says Braider. “When we share our feelings with others, it’s no longer a secret.” In addition, many therapists and psychiatrists are providing care at a distance through teletherapy, which has shown to be as effective as face-to-face therapy.

When feeling discouraged or ineffective, it’s easy to slip into catastrophizing, like “This is never going to get better” or “I’m going to fail.” Instead, rationalize with facts, Braider suggests. Telling yourself that this pandemic will not go on forever and that you’ve overcome difficult circumstances before are much more accurate portrayals of reality.

In an interview with Harvard Business Review, grief expert David Kessler explains how the classic five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance) apply to the collective loss of normalcy and connection we’re experiencing during this crisis. For the unemployed, we’ve also lost our livelihood and work community. Those Zoom calls with your colleagues you’re sharing on social media? Yeah, it’s giving me FOMO. I am grieving for the loss of my life as I knew it.

“We are all experiencing some form of grief, and job loss is part of the grief,” says Braider. “What we’re all working towards is acceptance of grief, and ultimately working towards finding meaning in it.”

She suggests writing down what you think you’re grieving about—the loss of human interactions? Mental stimulation? Then remember when you have felt this way before. How did you overcome it? This is not your first loss, disappointment, or failure, and yet you’ve adapted. You’ve survived.

Braider also suggests brainstorming ways you can move forward, whether it’s scheduling a virtual happy hour with friends or seeking online resources that keep you mentally stimulated and relevant in your job market. “In a job interview, talking about how you gained skills even when not working shows your sense of resourcefulness and resilience, and that makes you a more attractive candidate.”

And yes, self-care is important, now more than ever, as well as maintaining a regular schedule and finding balance. When we’re not at our emotional best, the last thing we want to forget is that sleep and exercise are essential to regulating mood, Braider says. And while it’s OK to use this time to lose ourselves to Netflix, Braider suggests a three-episode limit each day and finding other ways to relax.

As for me, the initial shock, fear, and sadness have subsided. The $2 trillion coronavirus aid package offers some relief. I go on long walks and runs, chat with friends regularly, take advantage of online webinars, and have found meaning again with writing opportunities like this one.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I know two things are certain: Today I am OK, and we will get through this.