Over the past 25 years, Arcata resident Lea Nagy has grown familiar with mental illness. Her youngest son is bipolar, and she has four grandchildren with serious mental illnesses.
鈥淚鈥檝e had lots of personal experiences,鈥 she said. 鈥淲hich, you know, you never want to be drafted into the mental health arena.鈥
As the president of the Humboldt County chapter of the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) and a county family liaison, she spent a busy recent day coordinating resources for families and attending meetings. By 4 p.m., she was just sitting down to eat lunch.
Nagy laughs easily and is quick to share the number for her cell phone, which is always on and goes off frequently, with families looking for help.
鈥淧eople need what they need, you know, whether they need a place to listen or, you know, ideas about self care. I just think it鈥檚 important that they get a chance to not feel alone and so isolated,鈥 she said.
This support is important in Humboldt County, where mental health services are severely lacking. Like many places, the county is dealing with the effects of the COVID pandemic and the opioid epidemic. But Humboldt is a rural county in far Northern California, removed from resources and funding. Its remote location exacerbates the challenges the region faces.
Now, the county鈥檚 Department of Health and Human Services and other partners are working on a possible solution: a proposed emergency mental health care facility in Arcata that would provide beds for patients to sober up, a crisis stabilization center and a substance use disorder residential treatment program, among other resources.
鈥楾here鈥檚 still hope鈥
Nagy has degrees in child development and special education, and she spent 20 years teaching special education. But she stressed that 鈥淚鈥檓 not a therapist. I鈥檓 just a family member.鈥
鈥淚 got drafted into this stuff, and all I have here is life experience. That鈥檚 all I have,鈥 she said, as she prepared to lead a weekly NAMI support group meeting in Eureka.
Twelve people gathered around a large wooden table in a conference room, with two others on Zoom. Most were the parents of children with mental illness. They took turns updating each other on how their kids were doing; some were doing well while others struggled.
Many parents discussed whether their children were taking their medications.
鈥淚 have a difficult time not asking him to go on his meds. He鈥檚 in a trench, and he won鈥檛 get out. He does not want to be on meds,鈥 said Carol Green, talking about her son.
Others struggled with knowing how best to help a child who needed support.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 know how to get him help. I don鈥檛 know,鈥 Liz Houghton, one of the co-facilitators of the group, said of her son. 鈥淥r we wait for crisis.鈥
鈥淵ou got us! You got our group! We鈥檒l help you through the hard parts,鈥 Nagy said to one couple, who was navigating a transition with their son.
Michelle Norton鈥檚 son had been talking about suicide and taking a lot of the anaesthetic ketamine.
鈥淩ight now, my thing is accepting that he鈥檚 probably gonna die. I really really am having a hard time with that,鈥 she said emotionally.
Another attendee, Gretchen Curtice, jumped in: 鈥淏ut I mean鈥 There鈥檚 still hope.鈥
Maintaining hope is especially important in this group. One of their principles of support, passed around and recited aloud at the end of every meeting, is 鈥渨e will never give up hope!鈥
But finding resources to help those who are struggling can be a real challenge.
Lack of infrastructure
In Humboldt County, 鈥渢here鈥檚 not the infrastructure here to meet the needs,鈥 according to Luke Brownfield, the county鈥檚 chief public defender.
Brownfield was born and raised in the county, so he鈥檚 familiar with its beautiful natural surroundings, its uniquely 鈥渁wesome鈥 people and its 鈥渄ifferent way of thinking.鈥
Mental illness is common among his department's clients.
鈥淚 would say our percentage would be at least 75 percent of our repeat offenders suffer from mental health histories,鈥 he said.
Brownfield has often put clients through mental health diversion, wherein if someone can relate the crime they committed to a diagnosed mental illness, they can get treatment rather than jail time and eventually get the case dismissed. But he said there aren鈥檛 enough providers to fill that need.
This is also a problem for hospitals. In this rural county, there鈥檚 only one inpatient psychiatric hospital and a critical shortage of hospital beds.
Dr. James Goldberg, the medical director of two emergency departments in the county, said patients in need of psychiatric care take up crucial space in hospital beds.
鈥淛ust earlier this week, out of our 22 beds that we have here, we were actually holding 12 behavioral health patients,鈥 he said.
Patients in crisis are frequently brought to a medical hospital, but they often don鈥檛 need medical care. The staff there don鈥檛 have the comprehensive training to help these patients, and they have sometimes been assaulted, Goldberg said.
鈥淯nfortunately, like other communities, Humboldt County's been impacted by drug use and particularly with methamphetamine, which is really wreaking havoc,鈥 said Paul Bugnacki, deputy director at the Humboldt County Department of Health and Human Services Behavioral Health Branch. 鈥淎nd there's an increase in need for psychiatric services and not a lot of beds available throughout the state.鈥
鈥楾rying to do the right thing鈥
To help address this problem, work continues on the proposed emergency mental health care facility. In February, project leaders applied for over $12 million in grant money from the state鈥檚 Behavioral Health Continuum Infrastructure Program, which is dedicated to behavioral health, and they鈥檒l hear back on whether they received funding this spring. But even if they鈥檙e successful, the facility won鈥檛 be complete for at least two more years.
Brownfield is not a fan of the proposed facility because he sees it as another version of incarceration. Instead, he has been trying to start a mental health court in the county, which would provide individualized mental health treatment plans, and he'll test a version of that program this summer.
In a community this close-knit, the work is a personal mission for him.
鈥淏eing public defender, I often have pretty much all my old classmates coming through the courthouse, some of them being defendants, some of them being jurors, some of them being victims. You know everybody,鈥 he said.
Despite the difficulties of the situation, Brownfield said client success stories happen frequently, and they make him appreciate his work even more. He鈥檚 glad to have recently seen more focus on mental health treatment in the community.
鈥淓verybody鈥檚 trying to do the right thing. We鈥檙e all trying to figure it out,鈥 he said. 鈥淚鈥檓 hopeful about the progress mostly because at least now it鈥檚 an issue that people are talking about and discussing.鈥
According to Darian Harris, chief executive of the two Providence hospitals in Humboldt County, attitudes are starting to change.
鈥淭here is a greater appreciation for the need to invest in mental and behavioral health,鈥 he said, especially regarding health equity in 鈥渞ural and remote communities like ours.鈥
Remaining optimistic
In Eureka, Nagy鈥檚 support group ended, and people hung out and chatted for a while. The remnants of their conversation littered the table: water bottles, notebooks, a box of the opioid overdose reversal medicine Narcan.
Mental illness is tough to talk about and deal with, and Nagy has done both for decades. So she鈥檚 had to find ways to take care of herself.
鈥淭he best thing I ever did, I put in a hot tub in my backyard under a redwood tree. And every night I do a nice hot tub with spa music, you know, and I light candles. I have a little altar set up with Christ and Buddha and anything else I can find that seems, you know, uplifting,鈥 she said.
What keeps her going, she said, is her desire to reduce stigma around mental illness and the hope that even if you can鈥檛 help your own kid, maybe you can help somebody else鈥檚.