I work as a child and family therapist in an intensive in-home and out-of-home program. I began working with a family with complex needs in early 2019. After COVID-19 hit, the family’s wraparound supports were reduced to virtual bi-weekly “check-in’s.” As the family remained quarantined together, tension escalated and risk of family breakdown increased. Recently, I coordinated a meeting with the family and service providers. During the meeting, a few comments were made about why I wasn’t “doing more” to “fix” the child. In this moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of angst, which I describe as a mixture of anxiety and fear. I began questioning my own competence. What if I don’t do enough and the risk increases? What if the family blames me if the child gets hospitalized? What if I’m the reason they don’t progress in their treatment? I felt like a small ant navigating through a forest of weeds, uncertain of how I got in or how to get out.
My National Park of Angst is a dense, overgrown natural forest, full of shadows and rough terrain. It is dusk, midsummer, and the humidity makes it uncomfortable to breathe deeply, like a veil I cannot push off my face. The air leaves a film of sweat and moisture on my skin, and smells of rotting natural debris, leaves and bark. Large roots grow out of a hard soil littered with rocks, fallen leaves, and broken branches. The vague path is cluttered with low brush that scratches at my legs and low-hanging branches that poke at my head and shoulders. In the distance I can see fading sunlight through the treetops. I can hear birds calling and the scuttering sounds of critters but I can’t see them in the shadows. As I navigate through the forest, I occasionally come across a small clearing where the air is less dense and the path more visible. Walking through the park feels like both an exploration and a search for an exit.
Carmen Chui, Age 35
Guelph, ON
This story is a selection from National Parks of Emotion, an evolving participatory art project documenting people’s emotional experience during the Covid-19 pandemic. Writing edited by David Goldstein, photos edited by Mindy Stricke.