Sometimes, calling off is a mental health coping skill.
I called off tomorrow. I own a private practice so I can do that. Tomorrow is a mental health day. Or something. When I reschedule with little notice, which I’ve done a bit over the last two years, my clients are gracious.
I’m sick of having days like May 24th. And May 14th. I’m sick of working as a licensed mental health professional in America, where elected officials are working as hard as they can to drive out as many people, or kill them, as quickly as possible.
My Previous Coping Skills aren’t working
I feel outside my wheelhouse. It’s time for someone above my abilities to take the baton and fix this, because “mental health” isn’t going to fix anybody around here. Best I can do is cope one day at a time.
“Do something” someone in a crowd in Dayton, Ohio once shouted at the Governor. And the Governor did. He removed conceal carry restrictions which go into effect next month.
Two years after the Columbus Division of Police beat the shit out of anyone near a peaceful BLM protest, Ohio will ease gun restrictions while simultaneously working to push legislation to make protesting illegal. Currently the largest targets are the LGBTQIA2S youth.
Two years after the racist police murder of George Floyd, Ohio is working hard to control reproductive healthcare, restrict the rights of mental health professionals – essentially making my license, my years in college, and my student loan debt a big fucking joke.
(This also includes licensed medical and education professionals).
I won’t be able to protest it. And if my IUD fails or I’m suddenly labeled a killer for having one, then I guess it won’t matter if I have a license or not. After all, Ohio’s governor is planning to use COVID relief funds to further entice students into mental health fields, so I suppose once people like me are driven from Ohio or dead, that will ease the burden of replacement.
(This is called catastrophizing. Or used to be).
What would happen to my clients, the beautiful people who I am trying to lead through this mess, if I had to go to prison for an IUD and/or for protesting? How come I live in a reality where I have thoughts like these? How come I live in a reality where my whiteness kept me shielded from the brutal realities faced by the Indigenous and Black people before me in this place who did not have this lack of melanin?
Hell is real, and it’s name is Ohio.
I had that clever thought a few weeks ago. And then May 14th happened. And then May 24th. And then I realized all my stupid fucking coping skills, which put me into a position to run a private practice from my home, are out-of-date and feel useless as fuck.
All my stupid mental health coping skills are no longer valuable now. They were useful during lockdown. They mattered when I was working from home while teaching my 3rd grader and preschooler, simultaneously, around scheduled clients. My stupid fucking coping skills worked when I was trying to help a child learn from a computer that everyone was too dazed to know how to use properly…
I’m so sad that there are families now who have no child in their home where there should be one. AGAIN.
We all deserve better than this.
These are my new mental health coping skills.
Maybe what I do doesn’t matter.
Maybe I’m wrong.
