It’s June of 2021. After getting the necessary groceries for the week, I load my car, buckle up, and push the ignition button. Over the hum of the engine the radio turns on and I move the car into reverse. The broadcast says:
“Critically-endangered right whales are shrinking compared to past generations. New research finds that the whales are growing to be about three feet shorter than they were 40 years ago…”
Incomprehensibly, I start to well up and jolt the car in park. I can feel the tears starting to form, my head drops, and I just let it out.
Most stories about nature hit me with an air of intrigue. But as I get older, the consequences of modern times steer me away from them. All too frequently, I feel punched in the gut as they reach the same sad conclusion; while beautiful, our natural world is fragile and seem to point towards a tragic end.
As COVID restrictions lifted in my area, lots of other things culminated in the summer of 2021. The previous school year connected me to a disheartening surge in the mental health needs among the hundreds of students I worked with on a daily basis. Looking back, I’d wager that I assessed more teenagers for suicide in 2021 than I had in my prior thirteen years in the profession. As a back drop to this professional trend, the astonishing amount of overdoses, medical emergencies, and suicides outside of work on the periphery of my personal life had me rattled. Many loved, cherished co-workers hastened retirements or found new horizons. I wished each of them farewell with a sense of anxiety and, oddly enough, anger in my stomach. Still, I pressed on- navigating these tragedies miles away from friends. Small class sizes and mask mandates came and went. As did the national and local news stories about vigilante justice, riots, and uncertainty and confusing issuances from the White House. All of which led to nightmares and an unhealthy obsession with “self care.”
There were bright spots during this time too. My extended family grew when my sister and brother in law welcomed their daughter. My nephews continued to grow and I got to spend more time with them. My mom and step father remained healthy. I welcomed two dogs into my life, trained them, and immediately felt comforted by their love and elated by their clumsiness and eagerness to please. Nevertheless, challenges continued for us all during that time.
Until this story about the critically-endangered right whales came on my radio that day, I failed to recognize how much I was carrying around: the weight of my students’ struggles, uncertainty about society, the fear and joy my family brought. Life punched down on me day after day for so long.
In reality, I wasn’t crying for the whales. I was crying for everything else.
This culmination of things reminded me of the kind of help that I wanted to offer the world- to help others navigate frightening situations and lean into the most important relationships in their lives. To deliver Attachment Based Family Therapy to struggling teens and their families. This is something I had put off for too long.
If you’d like to hear more about my personal story or inquire about therapy, I encourage you to set up a free 15 minute consultation with me.