The vast majority of you reading this will not have experienced war. The closest many of us came was perhaps during the Covid pandemic, when Boris Johnson suggested he was leading a wartime government and in a special broadcast, the late Queen Elizabeth II praised the “national spirit” and evoked the Second World War, saying: “We will meet again.”

We did meet again, but we also remember the psychological effects of that time – the isolation, losing people close to us before their time, and perhaps becoming ill and debilitated ourselves.

There are people in Britain today who currently deal with war-like situations. As a psychologist working in an NHS trauma service, I see the effects up close, in those who’ve been caught up in disaster and in the emergency first responders sent to help them. My patients tell me traumatic experiences shift everything; those who come onto my radio show, Life Changing, say the same.

Some traumatic experiences are one-offs, even if the effects last a lifetime. What, then, must it be like for those living through military conflict, day after day, month after month, year after year, with little or no respite? This is what is happening in Ukraine, where trauma is a daily reality and where stress and anxiety affect almost 80 per cent of people living there.

Imagine waking up every day not knowing if your home will still be standing by nightfall or whether the people you love will return – the anxiety of what might happen keeping you in a constant state of high alert.

There are the sights, sounds and smells of war, too: the constant blasts of air-raid sirens, the destruction of neighbourhoods, the smell of burning, and the regular power cuts. All of it creates a pervasive sense of fear and insecurity – a multisensory attack on minds and bodies.

Research suggests that prolonged exposure to stress in conflict zones can change the way the brain functions. The amygdala, the brain’s fear centre, can become hyperactive, scanning for danger, like an alarm that’s constantly ringing, quietening other important brain regions responsible for memory, decision-making and emotional regulation. It puts people in fight-flight-freeze mode, unable to switch off, or even to process what’s happening effectively.

But it’s not just the brain that’s affected. Ten years ago, Dutch psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk published a seminal best-selling book called The Body Keeps the Score. Its core message is that trauma leaves its mark not just on the mind but also on the body.

On a physical level, the body’s stress response – including the release of cortisol and adrenalin – goes into overdrive. Over time, this leads to fatigue, sleep disturbances and a weakened immune system, raising the risk of other health conditions.

Diane is a psychologist working for Humanity & Inclusion (HI) in Kharkiv in the north-east of Ukraine. She says the population has had to learn to adapt quickly. Practically, giving them instructions and safety rules provides them with a structure to help them navigate bombings and air alerts. Even so, she says, everyone is still living in a climate of uncertainty. It’s hard to think about and build a future when you don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few seconds.

HI’s mental health team has identified various negative coping strategies that people are using, such as drinking more alcohol and taking medicines without a prescription; becoming cut off from others or having a negative attitude to life, and transferring negative emotions to friends and family.