Siobhan Eagen / Staff
Stress is a beast.
Crying desperately in the office of my advisor, I was nervously trying to make sure my schedule could be worked out so the VA would pay for my credits. I was facing eviction and needed to move, so the money was crucial. Homelessness and transient living have become significant triggers for my Bipolar Disorder Type 1 and PTSD.
The advisor noticed my stress and suggested I see a mental health counselor.
My father was disabled military, which makes me eligible for the California Veterans Waiver if my income is below the poverty line. My parents could not afford to send me to college in Arizona, so I moved to California in 2014 to use my father’s benefits.
I have been homeless or nearly homeless three times since then. I have struggled to work the hours I needed to survive. My father died in late 2016 and grief left me unable to work. I moved to San Diego to live in an unoccupied family home for a year so I could get on my feet and return to school.
My housing situation blew up via an eviction notice. I had to move quickly.
My anxiety peaked when the semester began and I did not have a confirmation of my VA benefits.
I keep myself financially stable through a VA benefit called “Chapter 35,” which I receive as a survivor of my father. Essentially, if I am taking full-time credit hours, I receive about $1,000 a month. To receive the benefit, though, all classes must be required by my Student Education Plan at Southwestern.
My academic adviser kindly walked me over to speak with a mental health counselor. At first I was delighted there were counselors on campus for students. About 10 minutes into the counseling session, though, I was made to feel guilty for feeling stressed. The less-than-helpful advice I received was to “think more positively.”
I felt demeaned.
“Think more positively” sounds more like “your problems aren’t important” and “your pain is your own fault.” Stress made me incapable of thinking positively. I did not have the physical or emotional energy to move or find housing. I also did not have the money, so I could not form an emergency plan.
The counselor’s statement would have been dangerous to my fragile state of mind had I not had previous experience with therapy.
The first time I landed in a mental health counselor’s office was in 2005. I have been seeing therapists and counselors for 13 years. I have experienced a variety of care and caregivers in the mental health field. In all my years of therapy and psychiatric care, though, I have never received a slap in the face like “have you tried thinking more positively?”
The counselor did not explore stress management. He did not give me literature to read or exercises to try. I sat there with a full school schedule, financial debt, an eviction notice and grieving the death of my father with a bipolar cherry-on-top. I was told to be happier as if I somehow forgot to hit the light switch upon entering a room.
Instead of making a second appointment, I left the office seething. I was more angry and distressed than I had been walking in.
Worst of all, I felt insulted.
As a long-time patient, I have learned what a “good” counselor or therapist should be. Or should not be.
I should have left that appointment feeling calmer or validated. Instead my pain was deligitimized. Decent counselors should at least validate pain.
Dialectical Behavioral Therapy is one of the most popular modalities of modern therapy. Effective DBT prioritizes validation of the client’s pain, according to Dr. Alexander Chapman of the Department of Psychology at Simon Fraser University. When a person in distress is told they “shouldn’t feel that way,” they are invalidated.
Emotional invalidation during crisis causes shame, according to the DBT approach.
“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change,” said Dr. Brene Brown of the University of Houston, an expert in vulnerability and shame.
My counseling appointment could have been dangerous, even lethal.
If I was sitting in that chair five years earlier it could have triggered a suicidal state. I was able to recognize how grossly I was mistreated because of my previous experience. In this instance, my critical analyzation and anger saved me.
I do not believe the counselor meant any harm. But counselors, more than anyone, need to recognize the power of their words. I am grateful that SWC has mental health resources available to students. I have heard wonderful testimonies about the mental health support students receive. I did not, unfortunately, have that kind of experience.
SWC leadership must take action to lessen the likelihood that a dangerous situation like this happens again. Counselors may need more training and review. Hiring more certified psychotherapists will insure that students are receiving mental health advice from the most experienced and qualified professionals.
If students are struggling emotionally, I urge them to check out SWC’s resources. Our campus professionals offer consultations for behavioral health issues, crisis intervention, workshops and community referrals to seek off-campus resources. SWC’s Personal Wellness webpage contains a list hotlines and resources for crisis, domestic violence and LGBTQ issues.
Shop for another counselor if the first one does not “fit.” Do not give up. Advocate for your health. It is OK to not rebook the same counselor.
The mental health of students is a sound investment. My case is not unique. Many fight similar battles. They need quality support. They need support that will “first, do no harm.”
