I’m a Therapist: We’re Not in This Together and Other Reflections of Our COVID-19 Response

I’m a therapist. I’m a writer. I’m a woman. And I’m a mother to a now-toddler, a sweet, smiley boy who started learning about the world through masked faces and FaceTime chats.

I also run @psychotherapymemes, a well-known Instagram page for mental health professionals. The page content runs satirical, but my community is fierce, passionate, and hungry for growth and knowledge.

These people are therapists. Maybe it’s your therapist. Or your friend’s therapist. And they’re collectively tired and scared and considering quitting their jobs altogether.

We are almost one year into quarantine, and it’s been a draconian time full of people scrubbing down groceries and hoarding toilet paper, and sanitizing their hands until they cracked and bled.

One year ago, we were preparing to lock down and flatten the curve. Today, as it stands, over six million people are receiving vaccines each day.

And what’s happened within these past few months? We protested against racism, we faced political unrest, we demanded reform, lost jobs and health insurance, we preserved through fires and snow, and we grieved over half a million lives shattered from COVID-19.

But we’re in this together, right?

The Unspoken Consequences of Our COVID-19 Response

I am not an infectious disease expert or a politician. But I am critically trained to assess, understand, and treat human behavior.

This is a critical analysis of the hidden costs of any decision we societally choose to make.

And time and time again, we sacrifice mental health. Because it’s often seen as elastic, as flexible, as something we can postpone until a later date. And in some ways, this isn’t exactly wrong. But in other ways, it can be dramatically wrong.

Because children are killing themselves while on Zoom. And entire families are becoming homeless. And we’re self-medicating with drugs and alcohol and food and razor blades and Amazon purchases. And many, many, many invisible souls are falling through the mental health cracks because they cannot access or afford reliable care.

COVID has undoubtedly destroyed the underpinning of our society. But as we can see, it wasn’t just a virus that stole humanity. After all, a virus alone isn’t responsible for severe depression or drug addiction or eating disorders or homelessness or teen suicide or domestic violence.

Every action has a reaction, and it’s negligent to forget about these inevitable consequences.

We Judge What We Don’t Understand

If this year has taught us anything, it’s that we’ve become entirely polarized and mercilessly convicted in our own beliefs. It seems both expected and required to maintain a strong stance on every issue affecting society.

Masks vs. no masks. WFH vs. working in the office. Trump vs. Biden. Plandemic vs. pandemic. Vaccine vs. no vaccine. Mainstream media vs. fake news. Lockdown vs. reopen.

Do you feel triggered even reading through these arguments? Probably- it seems we all feel triggered lately.

So, what does this mean for our growth? Is there any room for critical discussion anymore? And is there any space for some kind of a gray area- or does that make you weak or uneducated or complicit in behavior you don’t want to tolerate?

How do we grow when we refuse to listen to the other side? How do we reach any semblance of a solution when we fail to recognize no perfect response exists?

What Are We Doing About the Glaring Class Problem in America?

Privilege can feel like having a coat.

You might recognize you have access to a coat, but you rarely reflect on how lucky you are that you can protect yourself from the cold. And it may seem like anyone can own a basic coat, so what’s the big deal? Well, ask anyone who’s homeless in the winter. Just ask anyone who’s struggling to pay for rent or groceries or gas.

The world doesn’t just hand everyone a coat. But if you’ve always been handed a coat, you may not really realize that.

Our response to COVID-19 highlights the appalling class issues prevalent in modern society. Schools are closed? Okay, a parent can just stay with the children. Immunocompromised and worried about your health at work? No problem, just do your job at home and order your groceries online.

Except…what if you don’t have these benefits? And what if you don’t have access to the resources you need to feel safe or secure?

Go ahead and point fingers. The Republicans didn’t do this. The Democrats didn’t do that. The government should have done blah, blah, blah.

I am not above pointing fingers. I have opinions about what should or shouldn’t have happened, but it all boils down to the same reality that we were never in this together.

Where Do We Go From Here?

As a therapist, I often remind my clients to feel the feelings. Be angry. Be sad. Be happy. Your feelings are natural stimuli to the world around you, and we’re all relatively exhausted.

So, how do we come out of this terror with a sense of grace?

First, we start validating. We pay attention to the people who feel anxious or depressed or paranoid. We honor their feelings without negative assumptions. We create a space for them to process, explore, and heal from this global trauma.

Second, we focus less on judgment and more on boundaries. Judgment keeps you stuck, often in a place of helplessness and anger. After all, you can spend the rest of your life taking inventory of who wore their mask more often or who ate a restaurant when they weren’t supposed to?

But where does this judgment take you? Without action, your judgments only perpetuate cynicism and angst.

If certain actions are unacceptable to you, reevaluate your relationships and consider the boundaries you need to implement. Consider advocacy, both on a widespread and individual level.

We are living in a worldwide trauma response. You won’t agree with how everyone copes. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t strive for acceptance, empathy, and compassion.

Your Mental Health Matters

I’ve often dismissed my own feelings during this year because they weren’t as objectively bad as someone else’s experiences.

It felt ridiculous to “feel sad” about my son missing so many opportunities for holidays and socialization when others suffered in hospital rooms hooked up on ventilators. It felt selfish to “feel lonely” when others lived alone with no human contact. It felt pathetic to “feel anxious” about getting sick when statistics reminded me that my chances of dying were incredibly slim.

Subsequently, we have this massive population of people who have spent a year rejecting and downplaying and denying their mental health because “it wasn’t that bad.”

The consequences of this silent year will be breathtaking. It won’t just unfold itself in therapy offices. Teachers, doctors, coaches- anyone in a helping profession- will recognize this toll instantly.

But as a society, we will probably focus on “moving on” and “pushing forward.” We’re going to be inundated with clickbait articles about gratitude for in-person happy hours and holiday gatherings. We’ll continue making wisecracks and memes about the hellhole that was 2020.

I am not a cynic, but I am a staunch realist. The silent sufferers will be forced into another chapter of silence. The gaslighting will be devastating. The comparison game of who had it worse might erode the next decade.

Unfortunately, I anticipate more suicides and severe mental health problems. I also expect more divorces, violence, and child abuse. As a therapist, I will do my best to be a part of the solution, and I know my colleagues will be fighting on the battleground with me.

I fear as the sun starts to shine, those struggling with darkness will feel compelled to hide. I hope I am wrong.

Whoever you are, your mental health matters. Even if you weren’t on a ventilator. Even if you still have a job and health insurance and people who love you. Even if you “did everything right” during this pandemic. Even if you didn’t.

Your mental health matters. We’re not in this together, but you deserve space right here, right now.