A reminder before you go to bed tonight | Georgia Telehealth Therapy

You're lying in bed at like 2 in the morning, just staring at the ceiling, and entirely out of nowhere, you're crying. >> Oh, yeah. >> There's no immediate trigger. Um, nothing specific just happened, but suddenly the tears are just there. >> And I think your immediate knee-jerk instinct is probably to just switch them off. You squeeze your eyes shut, you take a shaky breath, maybe you even feel a little embarrassed lying there completely by yourself, >> right? Because it feels like a glitch. >> Exactly. Our instinct is to treat that sudden rush of emotion like a malfunction like a check engine light that's flickering out of nowhere and we just want to I don't know rip the bulb out of the dashboard so we can go back to sleep. >> It's incredibly disorienting and that instinct to suppress it >> to feel embarrassed by it is something well almost everyone listening to this has experienced at some point. >> We're culturally conditioned to view an unexpected emotional release >> as this um failure of our own willpower. Yeah, totally. And that is exactly where we're starting today's deep dive. We've got this really fascinating stack of notes to explore. And our mission today is to connect two things that honestly seem like they exist in completely different universes. >> Because on one hand, we're looking at that intensely personal, very isolated moment of crying in the dark. But on the other hand, we're going to look at the massive logistical framework of modern mental health care. specifically how a teleaalth practice called coping and healing counseling or CHC is trying to actually solve the mental health access problem >> which is such a crucial bridge to build right because understanding why you're crying doesn't actually help much if you don't have the literal physical infrastructure to you know do anything about it >> okay let's unpack this our source material today completely reframes the entire concept of tears the primary thesis here states that crying is never a weakness it's actually the body letting go of what it's been carrying like it's a physiological release, not a psychological collapse. But I got to be honest, when you are the one in tears, it absolutely feels like a collapse. Why does the text insist that it isn't? >> Because of the hard biology behind it. What's fascinating here is that the notes identify crying specifically as a parasympathetic regulation mechanism. >> Okay, that sounds very textbook. >> It does. It does. But to really understand what that means, we just have to look at how your nervous system handles your daily life. When you're dealing with stress, um, work, relationships, financial pressure, literally whatever it is, your body often locks into a sympathetic state, >> right? >> That is your classic fight orflight mode. >> So, you're tense, your heart rate is maybe a little higher, you're constantly scanning for problems. >> You're bracing yourself. And if you don't process that stress, it just accumulates. I mean, you can only hold that braced posture for so long before the entire system just gets overloaded. >> Yeah, that makes sense. >> So, the parasympathetic nervous system is the counterpart to all that. It's the rest and digest mode. It's the biological breaks basically. And the text points out that the nervous system literally uses tears as a physical tool to discharge that accumulated unprocessed stress. So those tears that feel like they're coming from nowhere at 2 in the morning, they're actually coming from somewhere very specific. >> Precisely. They are coming from all the moments in your week where you just didn't have the time or the privacy or even the words to actually process what was happening to you. It's a biological imperative trying to forcibly shift your body back into regulation, >> which really makes the way we treat crying so backward. Like our sources highlight this idea that we need to stop apologizing for being human. We're taught to apologize for crying, especially if it happens in front of someone else. >> Oh, constantly. >> But biologically speaking, based on what you're saying, apologizing for crying is like apologizing for sweating when it's 90° outside. It's literally just the body doing its job to keep you functioning like a steam engine, letting off pressure through a valve. If you ignore the valve, the pressure doesn't just go away. >> That's a perfect analogy. You would never look at someone and say, "Oh, I'm so sorry. My sweat glands are attempting to regulate my core temperature. >> Right? >> You'd sound ridiculous. >> You would, but we do it constantly with our tears. We grab a tissue, we stare at the floor, and we say, "Um, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me." We treat it like a defect. But the text outlines something pretty alarming about what happens when we constantly hit the override switch on this natural response. If we refuse to let the parasympathetic system do its job, where does all that accumulated stress actually go? Well, it doesn't just vanish into thin air. I can tell you that the sources are very clear here. When you chronically suppress this release, it contributes directly to what we call sematic symptoms. >> Okay, let me pause you there because sematic symptoms can sound a bit like clinical jargon. What does that actually look like for the person experiencing it? >> Yeah, good point. So, sematic symptoms are basically the physical manifestations of unexpressed stress. Basically, the physical body absorbs what the emotional mind refuses to process. >> Oh, wow. >> Yeah. If you won't let yourself cry, your body might convert that trapped energy into, say, chronic tension headaches, or unexplained stomach issues, a racing heart, extreme fatigue. It also drives heightened baseline anxiety and long-term emotional dysregulation. >> So, your body's essentially saying, "Look, we have a debt to pay. If you won't pay it in tears, I'm going to take it out of your gastrointestinal tract." as exactly what's happening. And this dynamic naturally leads to the next massive realization in our source material. Because when someone starts experiencing these mysterious physical blowouts, the migraines, the chest tightness, the sleeplessness, where do they usually go? >> They go straight to the doctor's office. >> Exactly. They go to their primary care provider, >> which makes total sense. You don't usually walk into a doctor's office and announce, "Hi, I have a severe backlog of unprocessed emotional stress." >> No, never. >> You go in and say, "My back is killing me." or um I keep getting dizzy. >> Yes. And our source material speaks very directly to those healthcare providers on the front lines, you know, the primary care doctors, the pediatricians. The text points out a very specific scenario where a patient comes in for a physical complaint, the doctor starts asking a few standard questions and suddenly the patient just starts crying, >> right? >> And they usually say something like, "I'm so sorry. I'm just crying for no reason." >> But based on everything we just discussed, there's a massive reason. There's a massive reason >> and the text makes a critical point here which is that when a patient breaks down in the examination room that isn't a distraction from the medical appointment. >> It's the entire point of the appointment. >> Precisely. The text actually defines this exact moment as a clinical opening. It's a high yield opportunity for the provider. The patient's nervous system is physically discharging stress right there on the examination table. the physical armor has temporarily cracked >> and the doctor is standing at a real crossroads in that moment, right? Like they can hand the patient a tissue, awkwardly stare at their clipboard and go right back to checking their blood pressure, which is essentially helping the patient weld that armor back together. >> Exactly. >> Or they can recognize the clinical opening for what it is, which actually brings up a quote in the notes that I really want to challenge or at least get you to clarify for me. >> Yeah, go for it. The text mentions that giving a patient permission to feel and express emotions safely is itself a therapeutic intervention. Now, I get that it's nice to be validated, but is that really an intervention? Like, does the healing process actually begin the literal moment a primary care doctor says it's okay to cry rather than waiting until the patient actually gets into a therapist's office weeks later? >> I am so glad you're pushing back on that because it sounds like a soft feel-good platitude, right? But it's actually grounded in severe neurological reality. >> Yes. The intervention begins right there. >> Oh, I mean it's just a 15minute physical >> because of the friction of shame. We talked about how the parasympathetic nervous system is trying to complete a cycle of release, right? >> Yeah. >> Well, shame is the friction that constantly interrupts that cycle. When a doctor, a person in a position of clinical authority looks at a patient and says, "Your tears make complete sense. You're carrying a heavy load and this is your body's natural way of releasing it. They are instantly removing the shame. >> Oh, I see. >> The patients nervous system finally gets to complete that biological reset without fighting against their own embarrassment. >> Wow. So, the validation isn't just a polite bedside manner. It's the doctor actually turning off the patient's internal fight orflight alarm. >> It shifts the entire narrative in the patient's head from what is fundamentally wrong with me to look at how much weight I've been carrying. Exactly. It's the first crucial step of triage, but as you pointed out, it's just a 15-inute physical. >> Yeah. >> A primary care clinic isn't really designed for long-term emotional processing, >> right? You can't just open up this profound emotional realization and then say, "Okay, well, time's up. Have a great Tuesday." The doctor needs a reliable, realistic place to send this patient once that clinical opening occurs. This is where the logistics of access become the defining factor in whether that patient actually heals or just goes home and suppresses it all over again. >> Let's dig into that because our source material gives us a very specific model of what that follow-up infrastructure looks like. They use coping and healing counseling or CHC as the prime example of a teleaalth therapy practice that's actively dismantling the barriers to care. And we really have to look closely at how they're dismantling those barriers because a clinical opening doesn't mean anything if the friction to get help is too high. Think about the psychological state of a patient who just broke down in a doctor's office. They're vulnerable. They're exhausted. If the doctor hands them a referral and says, "Here's a specialist. They're a 2-hour drive away and they might be out of network. What's going to happen?" >> The patient's brain is going to use every single one of those hurdles as an excuse to avoid going. They'll say, "It's too far. It's too complicated. I'll just deal with it myself. >> Exactly. The brain desperately wants to retreat to what's familiar, even if what's familiar is suppressing the stress. If we connect this to the bigger picture, that's why the CHC model detailed in our notes is so vital. First off, they operate as a 100% teleaalth PA compliant practice serving all 159 counties in the state of Georgia. and serving all 159 counties isn't just like an impressive statistic in the context of what we're talking about. It's a structural solution to geographic friction. The notes specifically highlight that this includes rural areas where in-person options are either incredibly limited or completely non-existent. Tellahalth brings the safe container directly to where the patient already is. They don't have to drive 2 hours. they can sit on their own couch in their own living room and have that clinical opening validated. >> It entirely removes the um it's too far away excuse from the equation, but geographic access is only half the battle. The notes also give us a breakdown of their clinical team, and there's a lot of alphabet soup in here that we need to translate. It says they have a diverse, culturally competent team of 15 plus licensed therapists, including LCSWS, LPC's, and LMFTs. >> Right? Let's break that down because to an average patient, those letters don't mean much. But practically they represent entirely different toolkits for healing. >> Exactly. >> An LCSSW is a licensed clinical social worker. They're highly trained to look at the patients environment. You know, the systemic issues, the community, the family structures that might be contributing to their stress. >> Okay, got it. >> An LPC is a licensed professional counselor who often focuses deeply on the individual's mind, their personal behaviors, and cognitive patterns. And an LMFT is a licensed marriage and family therapist who specializes in the relational dynamics between partners or within a family unit. >> So having that full spectrum of expertise under one roof, even a virtual roof, means the primary care doctor isn't just throwing a dart at a board. They're referring the patient to a hub that can tailor the exact type of intervention they actually need. >> And our sources make a real point to emphasize that this is a diverse, culturally competent team, >> which is huge. I mean, we were just talking about the friction of seeking help. Imagine finally gathering the courage to go to therapy and then having to spend the first five sessions just explaining your cultural background or translating your community's norms to a therapist who just doesn't get it. >> Oh, it's exhausting. Cultural competence is the removal of that specific emotional friction. It's a relief of sitting across a screen from someone and realizing you don't have to translate your existence. You can just start doing the work. >> Yeah. And that work covers a really broad spectrum. The notes list their services. They do individual therapy, couples counseling, family therapy, and teen therapy for ages 13 and up along with life coaching. >> And their clinical specialties align perfectly with the kinds of accumulated somatic stress we talked about earlier. They focus on anxiety, depression, trauma, and PTSD, grief, relationship struggles, and general stress management. basically all the root causes that eventually lead to that 2 am crying session. >> But we haven't talked about the single biggest piece of friction in the entire health care system. >> The cost, >> the cost. You can have the best telealth infrastructure in the world with the most culturally competent therapists, but if the patient can't afford the session, the door remains locked. Financial friction is the ultimate barrier to the parasympathetic reset we've been discussing. And the insurance details provided in the text for CHC are a complete gamecher on this front. For patients on Georgia Medicaid, the notes explicitly state there is a Z co-pay, just zero. >> If we connect this back to the biology of stress, a Z co-pay isn't just a nice financial perk. >> It's a clinical necessity for vulnerable populations. Financial stress is often the exact thing locking these patients into a sympathetic fight orflight state to begin with. Right? If the therapy to treat that stress causes more financial stress, it completely defeats the biological purpose. >> That is a profound way to look at it. You can't cure a stress response by handing someone a massive bill. And it's not just Medicaid either. The sources note that for major commercial insurancees like Etna, Sigma, Blue Cross Blue Shield, United Healthcare, Humanana, the sessions range from a $0 to a $40 co-pay. What a model like CHC is doing is systematically hunting down and eliminating every single excuse the isolated overwhelmed brain makes to avoid getting help. It's too far. Well, it's 100% tellahalth. They won't understand my background. We have a diverse culturally competent team. I need my teenager to get help, not just me. We see ages 13 and up. I can't afford it. We take Medicaid at a $0 co-pay and keep commercial co-pays incredibly low. It takes that incredibly comforting concept from the beginning of our notes that crying is a release and you don't have to keep carrying the weight by yourself and turns it from a nice idea into a literal functioning piece of infrastructure. If anyone listening wants to connect with them, the notes say you can reach CHC at or just visit chc theapy.com or email them at supportcapy.com. Therapy ultimately is about giving a permanent destination to that clinical opening. The primary care doctor briefly opens the door and says your tears are valid. Then a service like CHC provides the actual room you can walk into. They have the time, the diverse clinical expertise and the accessible platform to help you figure out what those tears are actually trying to say. >> Therapy is where the words finally come. I love that concept so much. It's the place where the physical tension you've been carrying entirely alone finally gets witnessed and translated. And being witnessed, like just having someone truly see what you're holding without judging it is the ultimate antidote to all that silent midnight stress. >> It's the difference between merely surviving your nervous system and actually healing it. >> Well, we've covered some serious ground today. We started with the microscopic internal chemistry of a tear duct and zoomed all the way out to the macroscopic logistics of a statewide teleahalth network. But the core message from all our sources remains incredibly intimate and deeply personal. >> It really does. >> If you take absolutely nothing else away from our deep dive today, let it be this. Those tears that ambush you when you're exhausted are not a malfunction. They are not a sign of weakness. And they are certainly not something you need to apologize for. They are your body functioning exactly as it should, desperately trying to keep you regulated and alive. Therapy isn't a place you go because you're broken. It's simply the place where you can finally stop apologizing for being human and start listening to what your body has been trying to tell you all along. >> And as we wrap up, I just want to leave you with one final thought to mull over. We've established that crying is simply the body's physical mechanism for resetting the nervous system, a natural parasympathetic reflex that we have unfortunately and unfairly labeled as weakness. So, if we can successfully reframe crying as a necessary, brilliant biological release, what other natural physiological signals of reset might you be ignoring or judging harshly in your own daily life? That is a phenomenal question to carry forward. The next time your body forces you to pause, whether it's a sudden crashing wave of exhaustion, a strange physical ache that won't go away, or those late night tears, maybe don't try to just rip the bulb out of the dashboard. Take a breath. Let the pressure valve do its job. And remember, there are entire systems built so you don't have to figure out what it means all by yourself. Thank you so much for joining us for this deep dive. Take care of yourselves, and we'll catch you next time.