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By Dr. Marty BeckerI’m sure that many of you, like me, can become numb, inured to human violence, whether it’s the war in Ukraine or the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. But when those of us who love or care for God’s creatures see instances of animals suffering, harmed, or killed, we are always ready to speak up or take action. What did you think when you heard that four horses died ahead of the 149th Kentucky Derby in May of this year?

Caring for animals is important. It has certainly been the bedrock of my life. But I care, too, about my fellow humans and the world we create for ourselves and all the rest of God’s creation. As members of the human family, we need to animate and activate our discussions, disgust, directives, and donations for all forms of suffering and injustic.

I’m sure the vast majority of people spoke out in support of the “Me Too” movement following the repulsive actions of Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein. When George Floyd was killed, we were horrified by the actions of those police officers, and many marched. When white supremacists descended on Charlottesville, Virginia, for the “Unite The Right” rally spouting hateful rhetoric such as, “Jews will not replace us,” “You will not replace us,” and “Blood and soil” (a phrase evoking Nazi philosophy on ethnic identity), we were shocked and sickened; I know there were many kitchen table discussions asking, “How can this kind of hatred still exist against a people vilified for most of modern history?”

Here we are, almost eight decades after the end of World War II, and anti-Semitism, yet again, has grown in breadth, intensity, and violence. And yet again, too few speak out to confront the rot we see exposed on the street, on campuses, in churches, and on the media.

I have made it a point over the past month to repeatedly call my Jewish colleagues and friends to see how they’re doing. My shoulders fell as I heard stories of their rabbi killed, of their children being bullied at school and no longer feeling comfortable wearing their Star of David, of them seeing anti-Semitic graffiti in their neighborhood. It’s bad enough to see global anti-Semitism on TV or your mobile phone, but it hits harder when you see it on a wall as you drop your kids off at school or pick them up from soccer practice.

I know in the Becker family, we talk about injustice and try to live up to the words in our constitution: “We the people,” or those in the Pledge of Allegiance, “One nation, under God, indivisible.” What also ping pongs between my heart and head is the congregational prayer I’ve heard and recited since childhood that includes the words, “All God’s children.”

This is not just a message of support for the Jewish population. There’s room in our hearts and wallets to support races that are discriminated against, ethnic groups like the Palestinians, the cruel crackdown on Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar, violence upon the LGBTQ+ community, and of course, any animal abuse.

Let’s make it a growing chorus of people who speak out against discrimination, violence, and abuse, and speak up for human rights, diversity, and equal opportunity.

Grow hoarse from making your voice heard.

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” is the founder of Fear Free, which works to prevent and alleviate fear, anxiety, and stress in pets by inspiring and educating the people who care for them. This includes veterinary and other pet professionals as well as pet parents through FearFreeHappyHomes.com and animal shelter and rescue group staff and volunteers through FearFreeShelters.com.

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Audrey Pavia
For many young people who love animals, becoming a veterinarian is a life-long aspiration that starts in high school and culminates in acceptance to a veterinary college. Reaching that goal takes an incredible amount of work and dedication and can take a toll on a student’s mental health.

Veterinary schools around the country have come to recognize the emotional challenges veterinary students face as they work to complete their degrees and have stepped forward to provide them with help. Right now, every Association of American College of Veterinary Medicine (AACVA) member school offers some kind of program design to help students maintain mental health.

How It Started

Kathleen Ruby, PhD, a psychologist based in Neskowin, Oregon, helped create the first mental health program for vet students, at Washington State University College of Veterinary Medicine.

“I was hired as one of the first counselors/mental health practitioners in the country for a college of veterinary medicine in 1998,” she says. “At the time, the position was quite ill-defined. It had been set up at the request of several faculty who found themselves counseling struggling students not just academically, but regarding personal issues and mental health problems.”

Dr. Ruby had been informed of two suicides of students in the college within a decade, and between these tragedies, and some faculty feeling uneasy about the one-on-one care many students seemed to require, the administration was persuaded to hire a professional to aid and support students.

“As a PhD mental health therapist with 12 years of experience running a private practice, as well as having helped a medical social worker work with students in my husband’s medical residency, I was seen as a good candidate,” she says.

At first, Ruby’s position was viewed as similar to an in-house university counseling center, where students made counseling appointments when they felt they were needed, and the counselor served as an in-house therapist.

“The program continued this way for a couple of years, and I found myself inundated with anxious, depressed, and overwhelmed students,” Ruby says. “The levels of anxiety, anxiety disorders, and mild to moderate depression were much higher than I was used to seeing in my private practice.”

Ruby notes that most vet students are young adults, which is the prime age for some mental illnesses to appear.

“I found myself dealing with several bipolar breaks,” she says. “Acutely, there were students who were victims of sexual assault, rape, and domestic violence, as well as divorce.  More chronically, we had several students who had a great deal of childhood trauma, which they’d been able to cope with until put within the pressure cooker of an extremely difficult curriculum challenge.”

Ruby found–and other counselors in CVMs agreed–that the academic intensity; the closed nature of programs in which classes are small, with approximately 100 students who remain together all four years; the financial challenge of paying for medical school; the young-adult life stage; relationship challenges; and personal challenges inherent in medical training all contributed to making veterinary medical training a challenge to student mental health and well-being.

“Once this was ‘diagnosed,’ we began to craft programs to address some of the major stress points in the environment of training itself,” she says.

Helping Students

Fast forward to 2022, and students at vet schools in the U.S., as well as some in Australia and New Zealand, have access to mental health programs designed specifically for them. In addition, the AAVMC now offers an Accepted Student Wellbeing course for new vet school students, and is partnering with several organizations, including the Veterinary Mental Health Initiative, to create tailored resources on specific topics for students, staff, and faculty.

At University of California at Davis, the school of veterinary medicine student mental health program is designed to be multifaceted to meet student needs through the entirety of their professional school experience, according to A. Zachary Ward, Ph.D., coordinator of mental health and wellness programs.

“We start by interfacing with our first-year students in their first weeks of the program,” he says. “We work to overtly promote the focus on mental health and wellness at our school, and reduce the perceived stigma associated with reaching out for help when needed. We provide multiple presentations on mental health topics over the years and serve as mentors to the Health and Wellness Club, a student-run organization on our campus.”

The program also provides consultation to students, faculty, and staff on mental health-related topics, with particular focus on consultation around how someone can help a student when concerned about their mental wellbeing.

“We also explore methods for promoting mental wellbeing within the systems of our campus,” says Ward. “However, the bulk of what we do is provide direct clinical services to our students through individual psychotherapy, crisis intervention, group counseling, and couples therapy.”

It Works

These efforts to help vet students navigate life is paying off at UC Davis, according to Ward.

“Results can be measured in several ways, using metrics that we use to show psychotherapy works, via students’ responses to mental health symptom surveys and client satisfaction surveys,” he says. “However, to me, it’s the qualitative feedback that we receive from students that really tells me that our program is making a significant impact in their lives.”

Ruby believes the best gauge of success is how far and wide the understanding of mental health issues and the importance of personal well-being has spread throughout all echelons of the veterinary profession in the past two decades.

“Leadership at veterinary colleges and throughout the profession have gone from being somewhat apprehensive about the need for such care and training to becoming enthusiastic supporters and advocates,” she says. “Almost all the colleges now have at least one mental health professional, and some more than one. Most have well-integrated and sustainable wellbeing programs that are woven throughout the curriculum.”

Veterinary mental health and its challenges have been recognized, studied, and reported on throughout academic journals and popular media, Ruby says. She finds that this proliferation of knowledge, resources, training, and awareness-building has been a positive and helpful force within the profession.

“Perhaps the most exciting trend for me is that many of the speakers at educational conferences, and some of the current counselors, authors, and researchers are now DVMs who have recognized the need within their profession and have gone on to get additional certification in mental health and well-being fields to work within and improve the health of their own profession,” she says. “I can think of no greater validation than that!”

This article was reviewed/edited by board-certified veterinary behaviorist Dr. Kenneth Martin and/or veterinary technician specialist in behavior Debbie Martin, LVT.

Audrey Pavia is a freelance writer and author of Horses For Dummies and Horseback Riding for Dummies. She lives in Norco, California, with her two Spanish Mustangs, Milagro and Rio.
 
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Dr. Marty BeckerOne of my first memories as a child was of my father, R.J. Becker, walking slowly back into our southern Idaho farmhouse, supported by my mother, Virginia. He slowly turned his head and looked at me and I didn’t see my dad.

R.J. was a farmer, rancher, and dairyman. Why all three? He broke the back of our 160-acre farm to make farm payments, pay loans for seed and fertilizer, make repairs to aged farm equipment, and have enough for necessities and a few niceties. He was strong of build. There are black-and-white photos of my older brother, Bob Jr, and I holding onto his Popeye biceps as if they were chin-up bars. Athletic, he could make a baseball smoke, throw a football 50 yards, and do Herculean feats of lifting. He could carry a 100-pound haybale in each hand. Folks in our Castleford, Idaho, community nicknamed him Charles Atlas (look it up). But everyone also knew dad was weak. Weak of mind.

They knew because there were many times when he was so depressed, he couldn’t get out of bed for months at a time. My brother and I milked the cows before and after school. Neighbors pitched in to help us harvest our crops and take our steers to market. Then the switch would flip, and Dad would be manic. Mania meant excessive drinking, philandering, gambling, wanting to sell the ranch, and constant threats of splitting up our family through divorce. I remember a pastor cautioning that Dad might take his life with depression but would ruin his life with mania.

Back to when dad looked at me. When he turned his head, I could see where the hair had been cut short on the sides of his head and I could see circles burned into his scalp. I only learned later in life that he’d had shock treatments to try and jump-start his brain out of depression. To get out of the darkness, he was willing to fry his brain (this isn’t much of an exaggeration as the shock treatments of the day were not microdoses and were not done under anesthesia like they are today).

The treatments turned Dad into sort of a zombie. No short-term memory, no joy, a 1000-yard stare. Manic depression is hereditary. Dad’s father, brother, and sister all committed suicide. So did Dad. I’ve had suicidal thoughts as well. My Mom’s genetics gave me a Mensa brain, photographic memory, creativity, and a can-do spirit. Mom’s seemed to define me until my 40s when the “dark clouds,” as Dad used to call them came rolling in.

I’ve always felt that God has played favorites with me. I’ve been married for 43 years to the love of my life, Teresa. I have a great family. I love where I live, love what I do, and feel blessed. But I also have manic depression. My lows aren’t as low as Dad’s; I’ve never been bedridden or had to have shock treatments. Nor are my highs. No excessive drinking, gambling, or risky behavior; just a propensity to spend too much money or give too much money away. In some ways, mania has been a great blessing.

Mania allows you to think that nothing is impossible, and creative ideas can come at you like a summer hailstorm. I know that Fear Free came out of mania. I knew it was something that had to be successful because it helped all stakeholders. The only “no” I knew was “no problem.”

People in our community growing up were either heartbroken for R.J. Becker or scared of him. They didn’t want to see the strongman weak. They also didn’t want to see the strongman intoxicated and angry. Dad? He hated himself, even during the periods when he wasn’t depressed or manic. He was embarrassed. Felt weak and worthless. Even though through his efforts he put all four of his children through college; a physician, an attorney, and a veterinarian. His suffering and shame ended when he mouthed a shotgun just after his 80th birthday.

I’ve taken a different route. Dad wouldn’t take his medication because he didn’t need it. I always take mine because I know I have to have it. Dad would only talk about his problems with a minister. I trust boarded psychologists and therapists. Dad covered up his mental illness. I share mine with the world because I know that I can help others be successful in treating their mental illness.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people say, “You have depression? You have everything!” Yes, I’ve got a successful relationship with God, Teresa, my family, my friends and neighbors. Yes, I’ve had a very successful career by all measures. Yes, I’ve seen the world (89 countries) and live in a beautiful log home on a drop-dead gorgeous horse ranch in the mountains of northern Idaho. Yes, I’m part of something that’s changing the world for animals, literally and figuratively, with Fear Free. I do have everything. Except for the right brain chemicals to be happy, healthy, and alive.

In 2020, at age 66, I had my first serious suicidal thought. It was right at the start of COVID, and as I drove home from the airport in Spokane, Washington, to our ranch in Bonners Ferry, Idaho, I looked over at a frozen lake I’d driven by hundreds of times and thought, “I think I’ll just drive over the railroad tracks, onto the thin ice of the lake, and sink.” Blessedly, because of my faith, family, and the mental strength I’ve developed from therapy, my next action after this sinking feeling was to stop the pickup, call my doctor, and make an appointment.

I hope that this message serves to let you know that if you’re depressed, anxious, or suffer any other mental health issue, you’re not alone. To let you know that there are dozens of crazy-happy people you know who are so sad and depressed inside. To paraphrase an old drug message, “Just Say Know.”

If you are in the U.S. and suffer from depression or suicidal thoughts of any sort, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (800-273TALK800-273-8255suicidepreventionlifeline.org). It’s available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. No matter what problems you are dealing with, people on the other end of the line will help you find a reason to keep living. You can find resources outside the U.S. here.(https://www.drmartybecker.com/this-and-that/merry-christmas-and-support-for-those-who-arent-merry/)

This article was reviewed/edited by board-certified veterinary behaviorist Dr. Kenneth Martin and/or veterinary technician specialist in behavior Debbie Martin, LVT.

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” is the founder of Fear Free, which works to prevent and alleviate fear, anxiety, and stress in pets by inspiring and educating the people who care for them. This includes veterinary and other pet professionals as well as pet parents through FearFreeHappyHomes.com and animal shelter and rescue group staff and volunteers through FearFreeShelters.com.