“Hey, first of all, I’m OK. There was an active school shooting in Green Hills, and I was unfortunately driving through Green Hills when it happened. I’m OK. I didn’t see anything. I just saw and heard the emergency response and then could see the school from my parking spot at the mall. Got super disregulated, but I’m home and feeling better.”
This was the text I sent my therapist on the morning of March 27. I sent this text because I have PTSD, and I have an agreement with my therapist that when a big, bad thing happens, I will check in. I’m lucky in that I have a therapist to text. The pandemic was hard on mental health specialists. I’ve seen enough videos on #therapytok to know that many therapists left their jobs due to stress. Fortunately, my therapist continued seeing clients during the pandemic, despite the aforementioned stress, plus an added bonus of going into treatment for cancer. Slowly, my therapist helped me learn how to navigate a seemingly never-ending pandemic, and we even found time to talk about tried-and-true favorites like my childhood and maladaptive perfectionism.
I thought the worst was over, and then March 27 happened. A lot of us are brought up under the conventional wisdom that we should put our oxygen masks on first before helping others. I don’t know how therapists continue to do this day after day, year after year, especially over the past three years. But I am in awe of their ability to do so, and I hope the ones who (understandably!) bowed out have found peace and rest.
—Kim Baldwin
Digital Editor, Nashville Scene
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