How are you?
By Kerri Cokeley
Today, I had lunch with a friend who is a mental health provider. We had a specific agenda to discuss, but ended up having the kind of conversation I wish more people were having.
The purpose of our meeting was to talk about the huge need for mental wellness services in our community and what we could do about it. We talked about three-week-long waiting lists for people who finally decided to seek help, the exorbitant cost of treatment (both on providers and patients), and the fact that there are still many people who could benefit from counseling services but don’t realize or admit it.
A little later, we got on the topic of data. Did you know that in the 2009 Attitudes & Behaviors survey, over 80% of Clark County 10th graders reported that they had felt sad or depressed in the past month? And that 19% admitted to trying to kill themselves at least once in their life?!?
It’s disturbing. Very disturbing.
We then discussed next steps and the leaders we would make appointments with to ask for their partnership to make more services available. We committed to making this happen. But, what followed was the conversation that everyday people, here in our hometown, need to have more often.
We shared our own experience. Acknowledged the rollercoaster of life, its many ups and downs. The points in life when we didn’t know how to handle the grief, trauma, and stress that’s inherent in just being human. The fact that we tend to suppress our feelings, until things spin out of control. And how hard it is to reach out for help when things seem dark. Thankfully, we have both found the strength at different points in life to reach out when we needed support to make it through. We understand the concept of mental wellness, that it’s about trying to find and maintain balance.
After the check was paid and hugs were exchanged, we went on about our afternoon. But hours later, I sit here with the topic heavy on my heart. How is it that we so often gloss over the darkness, the depression we all experience in life? Why does being melancholy have to be taboo? Why don’t we talk about it and help each other work through pain more often?
I wonder what it would be like if we didn’t suppress our feelings so much? And if people recognized a problem with someone they would extend a caring hand? And if we all could work through painful feelings with support and without judgment?
What if, when we greet our acquaintances by saying, “How are you?” we really meant it?
