A year into the pandemic, some therapists are reaching capacity

Laura Erhardt, a marriage and family therapist in Brookfield, has a monthlong waiting list.

Irene Sherlock in Danbury can’t take on new clients right now either.

Chantel Herron, a clinical social worker and therapist specializing in women and teenage girls, has had 35 to 40 people contact her in the past four weeks for appointments. She’s only been able to take on about half of them.

Almost a year into the pandemic, many local therapists are simply reaching capacity.

“I turned several people away unfortunately and it’s not just me,” said Sherlock, a licensed marriage and family therapist as well as an alcohol and drug counselor. “I try to recommend other people but so many people are full right now.”

Anxiety, stress, loneliness, depression. A fear that things won’t go back to normal. This is what most of their clients are talking to them with. Erhardt noticed that some middle schoolaged clients were “just plain miserable” even back at school. They were having to sit in the same classroom all day with the same eight classmates, masked between protective barriers, she said.

“They have a very heightened awareness of things little children really shouldn’t be worrying about,” Erhardt said.

Indeed, a September survey from Mental Health America found that over half of 11- to 17- year- olds who took a screen reported thoughts of suicide or selfharm more than half or nearly every day for a two week period. In June, 40 percent of US adults said they struggled with mental health or substance abuse, a study published by the

CDC found.

The need is great and waitlists abound, but some clients, like Jane Thielen, a single mother running a small business in Sherman, got lucky.

Thielen had given up on trying to find a therapist she clicked well with. But then the pandemic hit, and she realized she really did need to talk to someone. In July, she found a therapist in Woodbury that she says has “worked out beautifully.” Thielen now goes to telehealth sessions once a week. At some point in the future, she said she might change to appointments every other week, but she’s worried about losing her spot.

“I was able to get one no problem, and I guard that with my life,” she said of her appointment slot.

The therapy has been good for Thielen, helping her navigate through this time. She helps Thielen manage the “day- to- day pandemicy things” and deeper concerns as well.

The move to telehealth

Sherlock has clients that she’s still only ever met virtually. But she likes the medium and said it has been “amazingly effective.”

Conducting a therapy session in face masks was more difficult for some therapists, who said being unable to see facial expressions was challenging. It could also make it hard to hear certain clients clearly. For safety and efficacy reasons, the therapists interviewed for this article either conducted all or most of their appointments virtually.

Doing sessions from the comfort of home does have its perks. Therapists noted that it’s easier for those with busy schedules or who had to commute long distances to make the appointment. Erhardt also noticed anxious people and sometimes even couples benefitted from doing sessions this way.

Highly anxious clients could call her from the comfort of their own homes. Couples could attend from separate locations when necessary, and she noticed there was less arguing.

Thielen has never met her therapist in person but loves the telehealth aspect. She’s busy, and traveling to Woodbury from her home in Sherman — especially in the snow — would have been a significant commute.

“I can cry full on in my house by myself and not worry about where I’m going after,” she said.

Still, there were aspects of remote therapy that are challenging. Finding private space to do the session can be tricky for some clients. Sherlock has clients who talk to her from their cars because their homes are too full with remote work and schooling. It can also be difficult to assess body language and make eye contact.

“Yes, I’m looking at you on a computer screen, but we’re not getting that human connection,” Herron said.

A long road for therapists

Now, as the pandemic continues and new viral strains proliferate, therapists don’t know what the future holds. There’s no crystal ball that they can give to clients to let them know when things will improve. Meanwhile, their schedules continue at capacity, and they try to take care of their own mental and emotional health.

Herron starts her workday at 9 a. m. and often takes calls until 8: 30 p. m. Normally, she’d wrap up by 5 or 6 p. m. She tries to take the hour after her last appointment of the night to read a book or listen to music and unwind.

During her interview, Sherlock was driving to spend a few days in the Adirondaks. She said she tries to practice self- care and has a group of peers that check in on each other.

The term “burnout” is one with roots in the mental health profession. Coined by an American psychologist in the 1970s, it described the mental and emotional exhaustion experienced by mental health professionals. And at Western Connecticut State University, graduate students in the addiction studies program have an entire course on how to avoid it.

“We’ve just continued to emphasize that during the pandemic,” said Dr. Shane Murphy, psychology professor and graduate coordinator for the addiction studies program at the university. Murphy has also incorporated more individual virtual supervision for students to provide social supports.

Just because they’re therapists doesn’t mean the pandemic doesn’t also impact them.

On days when she fits in 10 therapy sessions, Erhardt is exhausted. “The screen time is sometimes overwhelming,” she said.