PANDEMICS,
COCONUTS,
AND THE QUIET CRISIS It’s hard to wrap our minds around the notion that it’s been a year since the Pandemic washed over our world, vastly turning our lives upside down. At times, it feels like groundhog’s day in regard to the redundancy. I just read a news article claiming that grocery stores are beginning to feel the second wave of “panic shopping” as “another wave” of COVID-19 embarks on its steady rise. Sigh. Haven’t we read this chapter already? Wasn’t that in level four of the game of Jumanji we have been forced into this year?
This is where I typically see the color draining from my client’s faces, the fidgeting uptick, and the tears gathering in the corner or their eyes. Throughout this processing journey there are hints of the shame, exhaustion, and loneliness these brave teens are carrying. The burdens that have yet to be spoken about or validated. There is a name for this, folks.
There is a theme that has been becoming ever more prevalent within the therapy room. A theme that seems to be the quiet crisis that “panic shopping” has dominated. A crisis that is not only consuming our youth, but perhaps most humans along their journeys.
All real experiences that not only our youth have been subjected to, but all of us as a collective human-whole. Suddenly, our passions have been exposed to trauma. While living day in and day out for months with increased experiences of fear, anxiety, and grief of loss, we have been left to our own devices. The activities that used to bring us peace seem to highlight the feelings of unknown and of existing in an out-of-control world.
The passions that perhaps once provided a sense of identity and security suddenly seem lackluster and there is a void in motivation to engage in them. Once zealous artists are looking at their sketchbooks and cringing. Once creative chefs are allowing their mixing bowls to collect dust as they settle on their 6th frozen meal in a row and indulge with Netflix blaring in the forefront. This experience of avoidance has many of our youth, predominately our older teens, spinning. College applications are begging the question “Who are you?” and many of our aspiring college students are looking at their sketchbooks gathering dust in the corner and realizing “I have no idea who I am anymore”. The pressure to define yourself, morals, values, and passions amid this year’s game of Jumanji can be overwhelming. We’ve been frozen in survival mode for so long that we are merely left with hazy memories of what life used to be.
Trauma. Burnout. Chronic emotional and mental fatigue.
Imagine that throughout your life, you develop a love of coconuts. You loved when you would find one at the store or indulge in a coconutriddled treat. One day, a giant storm came out of nowhere and swept you off against your own choosing to an island. You were confined to this island until an unknown time. However, it was overflowing with coconuts! Silver-lining in the crisis. Days pass, and the indulgence in your favorite thing is fantastic. It helps distract you from your confinement, your anxiety about the future, and your loneliness. However, as the acute stress morphs into chronic longlasting stress, you grow more and more detached from your love of coconuts. By the time you have an opportunity to leave the island, you never want to look at a coconut again. 46 INSESSION APRIL 2021
