Calling 988 is not a real solution to the mental health crisis
If you are having a mental health emergency, the government should not be your first call
First, I am not saying that no one should ever call the new “988” mental health hotline. I have not called it, I do not know what the operators will ask you or say to you, and I do not know your personal circumstances.
What I do know, is that the suicide prevention line, now re-branded as a “911 for mental health emergencies” is being bandied about the internet right now as an actual solution to a staggering mental health crisis in this country. It is not that.
To start, concerns over its opacity and the government’s inability to assuage basic privacy questions should not go unnoticed.
Many people who have dealt with suicidal thoughts and have called the hotline in the past reported police showing up at their homes without being summoned and without providing addresses. Others have shared that they were asked for their social security numbers before they were allowed to discuss thoughts of self-harm. Again, I cannot confirm how this information is obtained nor how it is used long-term, but in a politically divisive point in history over privacy rights it behooves us all to be prudent in who we trust with our most intimate thoughts.
The second issue is the very serious concern that there aren’t enough people to support the expected surge in calls following the launch. That issue could obviously leave some very vulnerable literally on hold as they consider whether to end their own lives. Yikes.
But my primary concern is over how ardently and dogmatically people of all stripes are sharing this new number as though this is “the answer” to a heartbreaking surge of suicides and overdoses. How did we get here? Do the people sharing this number so dutifully think they are saving lives by retweeting it or clipping it into their TikTok videos? Do they really think it was the extra seven digits that were stopping people from getting help?
Most disappointingly, I believe people are sharing the number in lieu of actually connecting to their community and knowing who is in pain. Posting it online lets people off the hook and gives us permission to not try to connect with someone we actually know who might be in pain.
Before the era of everything online, work-from-home, everything-can-be-delivered, and filtered influencers on Instagram, we had to connect in the community by necessity. Remember those days? I think few people have considered how badly the boom of technology and convenience wounded our personal connection to each other. But I’ll save that for another column.
We’ve also given up on our common connection through religion. Church, temple, or however our families used to come together over shared beliefs, has been a vital community for people for as far back as history has been recorded. But we’ve left the church in droves. I admit not regularly attending any church, and I know that’s a problem.
Our disconnect from each other over technology combined with our gradual exit from church life has created a literal vacuum of support. But it doesn’t have to be that way; for those of us who have gone through a mental health ordeal, we know how much it means for a friend or relative to simply ask us if we are ok or if we need anything. Sometimes it really is that simple. Think about your own connections, whether it’s work colleagues, moms you see at the park, or just someone on social media you don’t know well. Do you wonder if anyone, in particular, is struggling?
If so, just reach out. I promise it won’t be offensive.
I don’t know what the long-term solution is to the clear mental health crisis facing Americans right now. But I do know that the problem starts with self-isolating and feeling like no one cares.
Think of the people in your life, and make sure no one you care about thinks their only option is to call 988.