At the end of August, I wrote about grief, how this period of time is extraordinarily and collectively devastating for far too many people. I wrote about how my mental health has silently deteriorated as I’ve (just as everyone else in the world has) consumed such tangible trauma on a regular basis and yet, almost counter-intuitively, I’m taking a quick break from my therapy sessions. This short break began when my therapist went back to hosting each meeting on Telehealth only (I wrote about the difficulties I’ve experienced in online therapy back in April) due to Hawaiʻi’s shutdown, but I’m going to take a break from our meetings for the time being. It may seem—and it is—nonsensical to stop seeing my therapist in this horrific moment in time, but I almost feel like our collective anguish is too much for anyone, even a professional, to balance. This isn’t to say that I no longer believe in the benefits of therapy, because believe me, weekly sessions have vastly improved my mental health and I still think that every person would be better with an hour a week talking to a psychiatrist. However, I’m trying to reckon with what I believe therapy can accomplish in a world where every day seems a little worse than the one before. I wonder if there’s only so much I can share before a break becomes necessary. If I’ve already divulged the majority of my trauma compounded with the horrific mass deaths we’re becoming numb to, is it time to keep some of this stress just for myself? I know it doesn’t make sense at all to take even a quick break from my therapy sessions when I’m still working through my shit, during a pandemic, when the world is on fire, and people are dying en masse thanks to climate change and a fatal virus and racism and policing. I think for the time being, I need to figure out what I want out of therapy in the time of COVID and widespread trauma and if my weekly sessions are as effective as possible going forward.