Mental Health in the Aftermath of 2020

Does the title of this post land you with a bit of a pit in your stomach? I get it. I think we are all fatigued, to put it lightly. Some days it feels like there is very little capacity to engage with any more news, and survival feels like the name of the game much of the time. 

2020 was a beast, friends. 

Talk about compound trauma! Between navigating life amidst a global pandemic, the crescendo of advocacy calling for racial justice, violence continuing to be perpetuated on our neighbors both locally and across the world - it’s a lot to try to put into words. 

Although we are starting to see some progress with vaccinations and maybe some of us are daring to feel hopeful and even consider making some future plans, I find myself thinking a lot about the impact of this past year on humanity - mentally, emotionally, socially, spiritually...it has been bruising, hasn’t it? 

As a social worker I feel keenly aware that those members of our communities who are most marginalized and oppressed are the same ones who continue to be most impacted by, well, everything. Mental Health America (MHA) spotlights the impact of Covid-19 on our nation’s mental health, and the truth is alarming: 

In the first 9 months of 2020, there was a 93% increase in people being screened for anxiety and a 62% increase in depression screenings over the 2019 numbers

• Thoughts of suicide and self-harm are being reported at higher rates than ever recorded in MHA’s history

• Our Indigenous American/First Nations communities are reporting the highest percent increase over time of suicidal ideation

• Our Asian and Pacific Islander communities are seeking mental health care at increased rates in the face of increased acts of violence and vitriol against them that is racially motivated (https://stopaapihate.org/news/)

• Last fall, over 50% of our LGBTQ+ youth reported having thoughts of suicide or self-harm on more than half of days within the previous two weeks

• Our Black communities are reporting the highest percent increase over time of both anxiety and depression

  I don’t share all of this to add to the whirlwind of crushing statistics that are all around us, but to acknowledge the reality of the moment in history we are living through. I am deeply sad and exhausted by this news, and sometimes those emotions can feel paralyzing. 

  
  For me, I think I am just now coming into a deeper awareness of the impact this year has had, specifically on my body.  It got me wondering how we all are receiving, filtering, and processing all the “tips” out there for remaining wholistically healthy during this time. 

  
  There is a lot of self-care language bouncing around right now, and on one level I think it’s fantastic that this is coming more to the forefront of our consciousness so we can start to attach some intentionality to our practices in how we treat ourselves, our neighbors and our world. At the same time, what do we do when “self care” feels like another thing on our to do list that we seem to always be failing at? Anyone feeling me on this one? 

  
  I find that the lists of suggestions to make sure we are getting adequate sleep, remaining active, eating well, and finding safe ways to stay socially connected can start to feel a bit out of reach, no? Some of us are in spaces with so little margin that the thought of self-care truly does feel like a luxury; others are soaking in a daily barrage on social media of people who report that this pandemic has been the most productive time of their life in which they have learned to take charge of their health, live within their boundaries, and read those 30 books they’ve had on their shelf all this time. And don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled for that latter group; we cheer you on! 

  
  I am also sensing that we might be overdue for a little dose of freedom, a little self-compassion when our best-laid self-care plan turns out to be less realistic than we thought. It is okay to feel lost, tapped out, frazzled, lonely, burdened, traumatized. It is okay to not know where to put all of those emotions. And it’s okay if you are still trying to figure out how to cope. 

  
  Maybe self-care looks different every day. Maybe some days it just doesn’t happen. Maybe committing to meditating, exercising, and eating well feels more like pressure right now than it does self-care. Maybe every week or every month we need to re-evaluate what our needs are, what rhythms are and are not working for us, and just continue to attend to whatever is coming up in the moment. 

  
  One practice I am trying to remember to engage with right now is to ask myself a simple question once or twice a day, “What does my body/mind/spirit need right now?” And if there’s capacity to attend to it in the moment, great--if not, maybe I’ll make a plan sometime that evening or tomorrow to get that need met. I think part of the healing process is releasing ourselves from expectations of what our healing should look like and embrace the (often disorganized and non-linear) movements of self-compassion. 

  Here’s to your wholistic health, however that needs to look today!