Economic Warfare and the Hidden Cost of Mental Health
Not long ago, I was sitting at the kitchen table working out the details of a family vacation. Nothing extravagant. Just something to look forward to. But the numbers kept coming up short, so I started trimming. Fewer nights. Shorter drive. Less of everything. About the time I was reworking the budget for the third time, my phone buzzed. A family member needed help covering utilities. They had not seen a raise in several years, and what used to stretch far enough no longer did. The costs had simply outrun them. I sat there for a moment with both things in my hands at once. My smaller vacation and their light bill. Neither of us had done anything wrong. Neither of us had made foolish decisions. We were both just absorbing something that had been decided somewhere far above either of our kitchen tables. I did not have a name for what I was feeling in that moment. It was not quite anger and not quite grief. It was somewhere in between, quiet and heavy, the way things feel when you unders...