Just a few days ago, this Substack turned two. If you were curious, two years of weekly posts nets out to be 105 different pieces, each one offered up every Thursday at 9:00 AM EST. It’s been a wild journey, and you all, the reader, have made it all that more enjoyable. I have been able to grow this platform in ways I never would have imagined, and considering that I started from scratch and did not important my contact folders to auto subscribe you all (a sneaky trick), I am so proud of how many people have signed up.
This week, in appreciation for you and in celebration of the two year mark, I wanted to do something a bit different. I thought it might be interesting to go back into the archives and highlight a few pieces you may have missed.
It seems that weekly, if not daily, we hear of another mass shooting. As a mental health expert, and someone who does a lot of media, I wanted to add my voice alongside my colleagues to help educate the broader public about why we can’t blame mental illness for our gun violence problem. This piece was a hard one for me to write, and an even harder one to talk about. I recall being asked to go on television a day or two after the shooting. Uvalde had just happened, the wounds fresh, and Mika from Morning Joe was reading off the names of the children who died. This was right before I went on live, and boy, was it a gut punch. And in the category of “you can’t make this up,” the segment was a few minutes behind, which meant my kids were already up and running around getting ready for school. I could hear my youngest’s footsteps bounding down the hall echoing in my microphone as I was on live. This only added to my emotion - I can’t imagine what those parents were going through who experienced such loss.
Every interview I did, every talk I gave, I reminded people of the evidence and how we can blame a lot of things for our ongoing gun violence problem in this country - we just can’t blame mental illness.
A lot of the pieces I write are commentary with evidence on something I have found interesting during the past week. Sometimes, however, I tend to back up, look at a lot of the themes I’ve been writing on, and try and become a bit more practical as to what people can do to help each other or those around them. In fact, this has been a big theme in many of the pieces the past few months. For the piece, The kids aren’t alright, I revisited the idea that our kids were struggling before COVID, during, and after. But rather than simply point at more policy or programmatic solutions, I offered up small things we could do on our own to help. The more I have gotten into writing about some pretty heavy issues around mental health, the more I see the need to simplify and give us something we can all do to help those around us.
Setting a new standard for care
I am not sure what was so popular about this post, but it had tremendous pick up. Reading it over again, I think that part of what made this piece so popular was that it provided a bit of historical context around integrating mental health and primary care, ending with some of the latest movement in public policy. I’ve devoted a pretty significant chunk of my career to advancing integration so my passion may have bled out a little on the page; that being said, the concept of bringing care to where people are, especially in places like primary care, really resonates. With each passing publication, latest greatest talk, or media story on why integration matters, we are seeing more folks understand the importance of this being a new standard of care. Let’s keep pushing on all levels of policy makers to help increase integrated care for all.
One of the first pieces I ever wrote on this platform is one that I continually refer back to in my talks and writing. Sure, it’s not that exciting to hear about all the action US Presidents have taken (or not) in service to advancing mental health; however, when you look at a lot of the decisions that were made, how they were made, and who made them, it helps provide a lot more clarity on why we are in the place we are for mental health. Understanding this rich history allows us to better see the trends and themes that keep emerging up over time along with some ideas on what to do about them. If you are new to this Substack, I’d highly recommend you go back and read this one.
It takes a lot of time to write a meaningful piece. Writing thoughtfully, with intention, takes a great deal of brain power. You all keep me going - I love your emails or comment on the posts. From the encouraging, “I really liked this one” to the thought out, and sometimes challenging comments. For this Substack to evolve beyond just being another post to read or email to sort, it will require all of us to get engaged in the dialogue.
As I go into the next year of writing I want to hear from you. What do you find valuable? What topics would you like to see covered? Does the format work? Any suggestions for keeping this Substack relevant and useful? Email me. DM me. Comment below. I want to hear from you.
My deepest thanks for you doing all the amazing things you do to help advance mental health. I so appreciate you all continuing to show up here. Here’s to another year!
Wow, 2 years! One thing I appreciate most about your writing is the combination of nuance and accessibility. You address so much of the complexities that are often overlooked, but you do it in a way that is just so easy to read, and full of solutions. Thank you for sharing your wisdom, and writing in a way that invites everyone along!
I appreciate these highlights--they are like a kaleidoscope of issues all of which are critical in the quest to improve children's mental health. Thank you for your insights and persistence in telling the truth