My name is Shira and I am in therapy.

Admitting it sounds funny, even though I’m sure that most people who read my blog are in therapy (no offense, but let’s be honest). I feel like there is still a stigma, like we whisper it when we leave the office for a  ‘50 minute hour’.

Truth is, I feel lucky. I found a great therapist when I needed the help the most and I could afford it. Therapy is so hard at first,  and it’s exhausting and it’s lonely sometimes. But it’s amazing and life altering when you put the work in and trust the process.

So  I propose to you that mental health is a human right. I am sure that I’m not the first feminist to assume that for most women, mental health comes at a price- either financial or personal- that they cannot afford. Not that having money makes you happy, but not having the financial means to talk to someone when you need, can cost a woman her life and future.

Recently, the price of my own therapy was raised- and this is within the national health care package in Israel. My American girlfriends struggle with changing jobs and changing health care providers and the issues of prescriptions covered by the previous carrier but not the new one, and waiting lists for appointments with covered doctors, new doctors.

So we turn to the wonderful world of Non-profits. Non-profits that provide therapy for those who need it and cannot afford it, are amazing. The work they do saves lives. But their resources are limited and they usually work off of some sliding scale of need, which cannot begin to take into account the diverse needs of  a multitude of women in different communities like those that exist in Jerusalem.

• It is valid that a woman who has a full time job and makes ends meet still doesn’t want to make yet another payment at the end of the month.
• Therapy is not a  “leisure” or “extra” activity, though it is deemed so when compared to her otherwise socially-acceptable needs.
• It is hard enough to get out of work, when, for example, one non profit in Israel could only offer my friend appointments during the hours of 9am and 5pm.

So, though I am sure they are understaffed and underfunded like the rest of us, women’s health non profits don’t quite seem to be able to help, across welfare lines.

3 stories, just samples of many, to rock your gourd:

1. In Israel, one such org  told a friend, who barely makes ends meet after taxes and has student loans coming out of her ass, that her income (before taxes, and not taking into account her debt) implies that she could afford full price therapy. She was welcome to come in for an appointment at 11am on a Tuesday. Thank you for invalidating our feelings, our financial state and our work day.
2. On my own mental health journey, when first inquiring within my national health care provider as to mental health  in Jerusalem, the person answering the phone had not yet had her morning coffee and she was brutal. When I asked regarding English-speaking therapists (I inquired in Hebrew, mind you), I was told to learn the language now that I live here and suck it up. She hollered something rude about immigrants and I asked her name and hung up. This person who answered the phone is the first stop for all people in Jerusalem who are looking for affordable mental health help and she’s heinous. To be judged or yelled at, in your vulnerable state,  is a mockery of such a department and all departments in the field. I called back after that first conversation, spoke to the manager and told him of the unfortunately incident. He was sorry to hear of the correspondence but he told me he was glad I called, so he could take care of it. I doubt he did. Thank you for embarrassing and traumatizing us after we muster up the balls to ask for help.
3. Another friend of mine had a wonderful, affordable  therapist through a non-profit. Her  therapist was fired, with no warning, and she was given no forwarding information to allow her to carry on her treatment. Thank you for giving us a glimpse into what privilege can buy. Thank you for showing us that only money, and not good intentions, assure you stable, consistent professional help.

Point is, it is hard to find cheap, quality, consistent therapy. Maybe the revolution needs to start, at least for now, in our minds. Because I want to see a day when a women’s mental health is as important as the needs of her children, family, work, car and even the puppy.

Without our marbles, ladies, how can we save the world?