this talk: is about struggling as a mental health professional in Coronavirus isolation - with Thomas Whitfield
For the last 10 months I've been living in rural Pennsylvania to complete my internship year, the final step in completing my doctorate in Psychology. Before this, I lived in New York City for 17 years, quite the juxtaposition. On Tuesday, March 17th, all the interns were told we would be working from home for an undetermined amount of time. Shortly after, all hospital employees were banned from traveling to New York City (a quick 3-hour drive and where the majority of my loved ones live), told to socially distance from everyone, and a stay-at-home order was placed across Pennsylvania. "No problem," I thought. "I love my alone time and I can handle this.” I've been training as a therapist for years, I have dozens of regular clients, and I know exactly what to do to take care of myself. I was cocky.
Going to the gym is how I deal with stress and part of the alone time I cherish. During social distancing the gym is closed. I bought some resistance bands off the internet, downloaded a yoga app, and set up a space to workout at home. I also generally eat pretty well, always take my vitamins, and you can’t make it through grad school without appropriate sleep time. Biology - check! I'm a social person, so my friends and I all downloaded an app where we can talk and play games together. "Further," I told myself, "you're active AF on social media, you're gunna be fine.” Social - check!
Psychologically, I've had my share of issues in the past, but now I'm a therapist, "you know Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, you know what to do IF things get rough, but they won't because you're covering all your bases!" I pepped myself up, "focus on your breath, challenge unhelpful thinking, engage in the behaviour you know will make you feel better even if you don't want to, and don't spend all day in front of the TV." Psychology - check! I told myself a lot of things, "seeing therapy patients from home won't be any different," "you're going to have so much free time to just relax” and "you're going to rock this quarantine!" Over a month later, I'm now looking back and seeing how ignorant I was.
The first two weeks were honestly fine. Every day was a bit different, and I learned to roll with the punches as I stumbled from one technology problem to the next. And, surprisingly, the majority of my patients were fine. Most of them were dealing with anxiety and depression, which means they generally aren't doing a lot of the aforementioned things, so quarantine wasn't a huge change for them (thank God for small blessings). But, as weeks three and four rolled in, more and more patients began to request therapy. I went from about 10-15 patients per week to 20-25. This isn't uncommon for the final training year in Psychology. In the beginning of the year, my schedule was just as full. However, then I had the gym, friends I saw daily, my boyfriend on the weekends in New York City, and I was hardly spending any time at home. Suddenly, I was expected to perform at the same level as always, but without the same coping mechanisms and heightened concern for all my friends living in New York City, where the number of deaths has now topped 14,000.
It's now going on week 6 of isolation, living alone in a state I hardly know. The home gym isn't enough, so I started running outside and it sort of helps. I'm sticking to all the nutritional food, but probably drinking more than I should and the ice cream brings such comfort. My friends and I chat as much as possible virtually, but it's not the same as having someone there. And the same goes for my boyfriend.
It helps when I have a good therapy session with a patient. A session where I feel like we really sink our teeth in and uncover some previously unknown artefacts. But it's getting more difficult, and the patients just keep coming. We're at a heightened need right now for mental health providers, but the cost to ourselves is great as well. Hospitals love to tote how important self-care is, and how you must manage your time to allow it. But when push comes to shove, like everything else, it's about the numbers.
The truth is, I'm not ok, or I’m ok-ish. I'm slipping into a depression and fighting to stay out. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to, everything I've been taught to, everything that from an empirical stand point is supposed to work. I think it helps, I really do. But it isn't always enough. I'm not telling you this for sympathy. I'm telling you this because right now, in this fucked-up situation, you can do everything right and still struggle. It's a difficult situation. Many of us are scared, many of us are alone, and many of us are just going hour-by-hour. I can't tell you what to do, because everything I know isn't working as well as it used to. However, I can tell you that it's ok to not be ok right now, it won't last forever, and you're not alone in that feeling. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.