The Grapes of Wrath

“Depression and mental illness in young people is so real, and it’s something people don’t want to talk about and want to shy away from. It has to be out there for people to see it, to get help, to not keep it hidden.” So says Elle Fanning, on the topic of her Netflix film All the Bright Places (Jennifer Niven's novel). “Everything’s so dramatic at that age, so intensified, when you’re young and still developing in a school setting, which is literally the harshest place in the world.”

Teenagers feel things very, very deeply. The drama surrounding highs and lows almost manic in nature, everything is both immediate and urgent. At home, they keep a lot to their chest, at times portraying that all is well. As adults, we listen, look, learn. It is easy to assume everything is okay, labelling much that is a ‘crisis’ as something that will pass. Smells like teen spirit. After all, handling things on your own presumably builds strength. Having said that, it is a fine line between adolescent angst, and something deeper. What about when angst leads to apathy? When what is deemed “normal teenage drama” is actually more than that? Instead, an emotional backpack, worn day and night, and something is wrong.

And here we are. Regular school ending in March, students are in month four of remote learning. Many of us are in fact home, isolated from extended family, work colleagues, friends, the real world. Others who are deemed essential have to go to work, putting themselves at risk every day. And with injustice everywhere, protestors too, are in physical danger. All of this for the betterment of society. Governments have installed protocols for our safety, in an effort to flatten the numbers of those infected by COVID-19. In fact, it is a concession that this is our only job: stay home and stay safe. Media coverage of its effects on the world has heightened fear and worry. So much so, that for the first month, every morning in our home we religiously watched news channel CP-24. It helped us not to feel so isolated. We witnessed as the world changed, infected numbers rising, death seemingly everywhere. One day, however, we didn’t. And the next day we didn’t again. We actually did other things for that entire week, starting our day with tea time. My brother in law in Kleinberg, God bless him, via phone gave us talking points. And while we still discussed what was going on, it was in a much more controlled, and much less vulnerable way. Only then did we realize the effect the coverage was having on us.

The madness surrounding those who just had to travel over March break, then returning with no checks at the airport, and how the numbers infected kept rising and rising, was a lot. As we sat home, seeing how the world was hurting, and so many were dying it was (and is) scary. We are the lucky ones, having to only view it on TV. Talking to my best friend in Palermo, Italy was heartbreaking -- how the country was falling apart, and how even getting food was near impossible. It all felt like the third installment of 28 Weeks Later, reminiscent of General Stone: “Abandon selective targeting. Shoot everything. Targets are now free. We've lost control”. As a family we (mistakenly) then watched Contagion. Bad idea. “In order to get scared, all you have to do is come into contact with a rumour, or the television, or the internet”, says Dr. Ellis Cheever (played by the always competent Lawrence Fishburne). My teenage daughter was in tears half an hour in. And when my sister called just to check in, I was the same. Fear running rampant, overly vulnerable -- as I had not seen her in over a month -- it was just overwhelming. And now, while we still refer to the media, and will continue to do so, it is no longer in a frantic, compulsive manner. It is to keep up and to be smart about how we self-isolate. We more sensitively rely on news sources, as we acclimatize better to this ‘new normal’.

We understand the physical impact of COVID-19. We know about the shortness of breath, the fever, the pain, and in some cases death. This is why we self-isolate and don’t see loved ones. This is why we reluctantly get groceries (if we are lucky) only when we have to, or go for limited walks (again, if we are lucky). Zoom calls, Facetime, Whatsapp video, any forms of ‘virtual love’ are our saving grace. They keep us connected. Social media is at its height, all of this making the world just a little bit smaller. Those who can afford to pay bills, work from home, get help from their government, and not get sick are the privileged ones. Measures are in place to keep us physically distant and prevent the spreading of Coronavirus. But what is the cost of these deemed necessary measures, to our emotional health? In preserving us physically, what are the precautions doing to us mentally?

I began writing this post thinking about teenagers: in their rooms, online learning, and doing what with the rest of their day? Not every parent is at home. And not everyone has a schedule. Already I am labelled by some as a hardass for having even a loosely organized day -- with that same Kleinberg brother-in-law randomly and jokingly texting us Free Ché! with regards to our 14-year-old son. Having said that, we still feel like a Friday is a Friday, and a Monday is a Monday. The number one thing I hear from everyone I have talked to while researching is that they are trying to “stay busy”. So maybe we are doing something right?! Where this is not possible, what is happening in those homes? How are teenagers, and adults alike managing their emotional needs amidst this pandemic? How are we all addressing mindfulness? On top of that, how are we (from our homes, if we are not out protesting), navigating all of the feelings surrounding racial injustice, and what we are seeing happening worldwide? The physical safety we covet may very well have a mental and emotional cost that could last years, even after the self-isolating decreases. In protecting the physically vulnerable population from COVID-19, what is happening to the other vulnerable population? Many of us struggle emotionally, with feelings of loneliness and alienation. Even that is a luxury, where there is physical mortality, and financial loss, as businesses close, rent is unpaid, mortgage payments are closing in, and bills pile up. In an era of Bell Let’s Talk, and Pink Shirt Day, with blogs and seminars and gurus all devoted to mental health awareness, the irony is not lost.

As a teen, I kept a lot to myself: the torment of being bullied, the heartache of social exclusion, the stigma of being ‘brown’, and the fear surrounding mental health concerns of loved ones. Sure it taught me to be strong, but it was also isolating. I learned to rely on myself for emotional support, picking up crumbs of kindness along the way. Self-worth as we know it was just not a concept. Fortunately for me, which is not the case for so many, much of my emotional struggle was temporary, and rooted in specifics. I lived in a small northern Canadian town with no one else of my race. I just couldn’t communicate my needs to my parents surrounding racism and bullying. For the first half of high school, even after moving to a multicultural city like Toronto, unable to make friends, unable to self-advocate, most of grade ten lunch was spent hiding out in a bathroom stall. By grade 11/12, I met some amazing people, who truly breathed life into me. I am one of the lucky ones. But before that, perhaps a stay-at-home pandemic would have suited me as a teen. It wouldn’t have addressed my insecurity, or the seemingly deep 'war wounds' of childhood, but it would have been safe.

So what about all those teens who also “keep it all inside”, particularly during this pandemic? Binging show after show, alone in their rooms, wishing they were John B. or Sara Cameron from Outer Banks, Snapchatting all night, scrolling endlessly on how Justin Bieber and Haily Baldwin are handling things. It is hard enough going through adolescence without COVID-19. With no exterior routines to keep life in order, they will have to learn how to manage their feelings and thoughts all on their own. Yes, we know many think this independent grit is better. I beg to differ. For again, where is the progress -- particularly in a climate where “wellness” is so en vogue? They are figuring out that the regimen that has been pulled out from under them, is perhaps what was in fact saving them. The normalcy gone, what is there to rely on? Likewise, many adults live alone or are in less than ideal relationships. Possibly not earning. Some struggle in an unhappy home, or have teens that may be sleeping all day, gaming all night. Some spouses are not handling things well. Elderly parents are at home, unmotivated and alone. Addicts especially will struggle. When asked why the liquor and beer stores, plus cannabis shops are deemed essential, the Ontario government stated that there are people out there with addictions, and they need to be supported by keeping these businesses open. This is the reality. Just being away from the outside world -- out of a routine, eating whatever, whenever, and missing out on simple social interactions like taking the bus, or smiling at the barista while ordering one’s coffee -- can take its toll. Zoom therapy calls are a thing, but even those pale next to that real person to person interaction. Essentially, do we have a situation where only the ‘strong’ will persevere?

In A Million Little Things, a dramatic series about a group of friends in their 30s and 40s, therapist Maggie (the wonderful Allison Miller) reminds her friend Rome (Romany Malco is outstanding) who suffers from depression that he had said it was “like wearing a heavy coat that you couldn’t take off”. As adults, we can find this sort of emotional pain to be immobilizing. So what do you do, when your grade 7 child stops wanting to get out of bed in the morning? How are they, during this crisis? This extra burden of self-isolation can be extremely dangerous, to even the most strong-hearted -- never mind how it impacts those who are more susceptible. Depression is a word we now can say out loud. This was not always the case. It is understood to be real and can happen at any age. At times it is based on unique events. Like where you grow up. Or COVID-19. Sometimes it is based on nothing at all. Disenfranchisement and cynicism, twin bookends of youth, need to be monitored in our kids, our teens, ourselves. And since depression exists, the why is not important. Today there are more kids with peanut allergies than there were in the 1980s. Do we care why? The fact is, there are. And some might say that because modern parents give it life, depression is then created. We enable. Maybe. But what if it’s not, and what if we don’t? What if it’s just talked about more, and noticed more? What if it’s allowed to be talked about, and noticed more? And therein lies the path to any sort of growth. Look out for it, and let it exist. Only then can it begin to be tackled. All of the pandemic measures that we have in place are protecting us. So yes, stay safe. At the same time watch. In your home, and remotely, for loved ones. Keep your own wellness in mind. Reach out to whoever you can, however you can during this critical and emotionally draining time. We can all help each other, as cliché as that sounds.

The beautiful, and most heartfelt responses I received when polled Instagram users were asked how we are keeping our emotional balance a priority right now, speak volumes:

• Exercising, reading, and learning

• Journaling, meditating and daily walks

• Reading books about health and spirituality

• Enjoying a good cup of tea every day

• Weaning off my sleeping pills, with melatonin

• Taking a long walk with someone I don’t live with

• Sleeping 8 hours every night

• Watching makeup tutorials

• Learning English online

• Distancing myself from trigger people

• Podcasting

• Getting sober

• Connecting with my siblings

• Exercising because now I have time

• Exploring new recipes online

• Taking my workout outside

• Working on my back yard

• Weekend rides on my motorcycle

• More time with my family

A privileged society where emotional health can be a focus, must never be taken for granted. While some can manage in these most lovely of ways, others simply cannot. The same way high school years are supposed to be “the time of your life”. Hmmm, let me just think about that for a moment. A stay at home directive can mean rest, and it can mean calm. It can also mean a most fragile and difficult time. Economic crisis. Health-care catastrophe. Racial ill-will. Mental and emotional strain. Out of this, it is the delicate who require the lion’s share. Physically and mentally. Even apart, find that togetherness. And hold on tight. The financial ruin is tacit and clear. The physical pain is abundantly visible. People, cities, countries will go broke, in a myriad of ways. Populations will diminish. And in the wake of all this, such unprecedented grief for current generations, will no doubt be a cost that is more than we know, for many years to come.

Sources:

“All Eyes on Elle Fanning”, by Sophie Heawood. Marie Claire, January 16, 2020.

A Million Little Things (Season 1, Episode 14). ABC, 2018.

Contagion, 2011.

28 Weeks Later, 2007.