Talking Through
As we drew close to the end of an intake session, after an hour of learning about her history and current world, where she found joy and what caused suffering, a dear client sighed deeply and said: “I just want to figure out how to live a meaningful life in such a fucked up world.” I wrote that sentence verbatim in her treatment plan as a primary therapy goal, and I carry her words forward as a formidable question for us all. In fact, her statement frames my hope for this column: to delve into what it means to be Human, with a capital H, in a world that is so often dehumanizing, and what it means to protect this humanity when the world itself feels sick.
I am a clinical psychologist, trained in identifying and treating psychopathology and mental illness. Almost every person that I have worked with met some diagnostic criteria for a mental health disorder on paper. And yet, I would describe few of these clients as mentally ill. Rather, I describe my clients as being remarkably resilient, creative, and inspiring in the ways that they fight to maintain a sense of emotional well-being. Mental health care in the United States is too often taken up under the medical model, in which psychological symptoms are evidence of a sickness in the mind of the person who feels unwell. What I see, day after day in the session room, are human beings struggling with exhaustion, pain, anger, personal and social alienation, and threats to safety driven by the experience of being generally well in an unwell world.
I would argue that a chronic state of worry and concern about the viability of our planet is a reasonable response to current environmental threats. I would state emphatically that fear of authority figures including the police and other law enforcement officials is reasonable, especially for the majority of folx who do not present as white, male, and upper class. I would suggest that loss of interest in activities that used to bring joy is an understandable component of living in a global pandemic. I offer that second-guessing one’s own perception of reality is a common response to being gaslit by politicians, medical professionals, and persons of influence on the national stage. These emotional responses that might be defined by the medical model as anxiety, paranoia, depression, or psychosis are, more accurately and importantly, expected and healthy responses to existential threats. Let’s be clear: expected and healthy does not mean easy or comfortable. It is a cruel double-down that the side-effects of exposure to trauma and other stressors result in a cycle of trauma and stress.
And so we return to my client’s important wonderment: how do we live meaningfully in an unwell world? Racism, individualism, grind-culture, patriarchy, resource-hoarding, climate change, and other “world sicknesses” will not shift quickly, and yet we suffer under them daily. What are realistic options for self-protection and emotional care?
To be honest, the term “self-care” makes me squirm. I have, over time, developed strong negative associations to this phrase that, when appropriated or misused by wellness and mental health industries, often values consumerism, competition, and conformity over nourishment and support. Culturally, self-care and “treat yourself” have become synonymous in many ways. What I hope to explore in this space are practices of psychological self-care that are impactful and meaningful, and that take seriously and centrally the relationship between our individual Self and the World around us. Foundationally, a true practice of self-care is indeed a practice of protecting and honoring our humanity, our ability to feel integrity and dignity.
We are going to break this down into column-sized pieces! And when I say I hope to facilitate a conversation, I mean I want to be in dialogue with you. Send all your burning questions about the intersection of mental health and environmental stressors and how we can reclaim practices of self-care and community-care. Next month, I’m going deep into nervous system regulation as a self-care practice (and why deep breathing and taking bubble baths just doesn’t cut it for most of us).
Fellow Humans, I so look forward to continuing a conversation with you about our shared humanity and reclaiming self-care. Until then.
