Healing Hearts: North Carolina’s Mental Health Warriors Battle Hurricane Helene’s Aftermath

ASHEVILLE, N.C. – Sebastian Saraellno Paez’s parents were already in a state of panic, he remembers, when he awoke on Friday, Sept. 27. Hurricane Helene struck the evening prior and now, waters — two feet deep and escalating — enveloped his family’s home.

In an effort to stay composed and contemplate solutions, the 17-year-old student poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. “From that moment on, my mind entered survival mode,” he shares. “Where I’m not really processing anything on an emotional level.”

He and his family reside in Swannanoa, North Carolina. It is a working-class community made up of restaurant servers, hotel employees, and housekeepers who support nearby Asheville. His parents immigrated to this area from Mexico many years ago. Mobile home parks are precariously situated within the town’s mountain coves, and many were engulfed by Helene. Currently, debris and wreckage occupy the locations where homes once stood.

Over 200 individuals lost their lives in Hurricane Helene — about half in North Carolina — and hundreds of thousands more were forced to flee their homes. In North Carolina, 27 counties were included in a major disaster declaration. Numerous homes that were destroyed lacked insurance. A recent report from the N.C. governor’s office estimated that over 70,000 homes in the state faced damage.

Collective trauma a gradual crisis

As of today, while some families have attained a delicate balance, mental health experts caution that a slow-moving crisis is emerging due to the collective trauma experienced by individuals in this area. Practitioners highlight that its ramifications will manifest for years, and that the quality and frequency of mental health support individuals receive in the forthcoming months will be vital.

For Sebastian, the feeling that he was witnessing a cinematic version of himself and his family lingered for the next day following the storm’s impact. He observed his family attempt and fail to reach 911 and as they eventually evacuated their home into waist-deep water towards safer ground at a neighbor’s residence. Upon finding it unoccupied, they accessed it through a window. This proved to be a life-saving choice. They witnessed their own house almost entirely submerged.

Perhaps his most vivid recollection, Sebastian states, is the moment he acknowledged the possibility that they might not survive. This occurred after they unsuccessfully attempted to reach the attic of their neighbor’s home.

“I felt as though I was standing at the gates of death,” he reminisces. “Reaching a moment where if the water continued to rise, I might not witness another day.” His mother, Maria Paez, was seated next to him, chanting and praying. Water was rising all around them, creeping up the sides of the couch on which they sat.

Sebastian closed his eyes. It felt like napping, he reassured himself. Think of joyful memories.

“Just as I was in that mindset,” he recounts, “my father observed — the water’s not escalating as significantly as it was.”

In a miraculous turn of events, the water subsided. The family escaped alive.

Mental health requirements will necessitate substantial investments

Trauma is sly and erratic. In a shared catastrophe like Hurricane Helene, some studies predict that 20-40% of a population may suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, which can be debilitating and might intensify months or even years after a distressing experience. Right

now — as individuals who endured the ordeal are finally beginning to reflect on their experiences — represents a pivotal moment when people can either assimilate their trials and progress beyond them, or become mired in trying to comprehend them.

“It’s incredibly challenging for individuals to recover and enhance their mental well-being if they lack a secure residence,” states Tracy Hayes, who administers the state government agency responsible for providing mental health assistance after Helene, Vaya Health. The state has committed $25 million in mental health support. Congress allocated billions in additional funds for hurricane recovery last December.

In the initial days following the storm, the state engaged crisis counselors and assigned them to walk-in clinics. They are now focusing on strengthening their workforce of mental health providers to address more persistent requirements.

However, providing this type of support to displaced families presents a challenge. Hayes highlights that in the hierarchy of needs, therapy is secondary to food and shelter — and without these fundamental necessities, pre-existing trauma may be intensified. “Individuals are living in tents or staying with friends and relatives,” says Hayes, “which we know also affects mental well-being.”

The Paez family is currently residing with friends, returning to their home daily to demolish water-damaged walls with intentions to reconstruct. Their house has been stripped back to its framework. Local church organizations and nonprofits have organized to assist the family, including LEAF Global Arts. Prior to the storm, the organization’s executive director, Jennifer Pickering, was busy supporting local artists and organizing festivals. Now, she is nearly working full-time to aid families affected by the storm in Swannanoa, including the Paez family.

Recently, while standing in their gutted home, Pickering embraced Maria Paez as Maria softly wept. According to Maria, it was one of the first instances she cried since the storm. “You’ve shown so much strength for everyone,” Pickering expresses.

“I have to for my children,” Maria responds.

Traumatized trauma therapists

Even for survivors who were not uprooted by Helene, mental health recovery is a gradual process, and therapists in the area express that the circumstances have compelled them to reconsider how they provide care or establish boundaries with their clients. “There’s a therapy session where someone has, you know, enrolled, arrived, and may or may not be using their insurance to have a meeting with a therapist,” remarks clinical social worker Ann DuPre Rogers. “That’s not what has been occurring since the hurricane.”

Rogers runs an organization known as Resources for Resilience that instructs individuals in coping techniques to manage trauma. Following the storm, she has been guiding listening circles to assist people in processing Helene’s repercussions.

Rogers mentions that many individuals she has interacted with have been shaken by an abrupt distrust of the ground beneath them – quite literally. “Individuals who have encountered landslides, mudslides – either being in them or observing them – that type of instability can truly disrupt your nervous system,” she notes.

She and fellow therapists in the region emphasize that experiencing this crisis alongside their clients has been both unique and rewarding. “I possess more empathy than ever before,” Rogers shares, recalling the moment she recognized she was in shock when she inadvertently put dog food in the coffee maker. “That was a moment of ‘Yes – this is real.'”

Children may feel Helene’s effects for their entire lives

In a mobile home community in Swannanoa, a 7-year-old named Diego Hernandez has been crying during rainfall, fearful of another storm similar to the one he endured. Trees soaring to heights of 100 feet fell all around the family’s dwelling during Helene – one even crushed their vehicle.

When it rained recently, Diego’s mother, Maribel Hernandez, recounts that her son pleaded with her to relocate them elsewhere – to a taller building devoid of windows. “I’m concerned for him,” Maribel says, “I want to assist him.”

Kids are particularly susceptible to the impacts of trauma. Sebastian Sarellano Paez, who celebrated his 18th birthday on Jan. 6, recalls the initial days after returning to school. “I’d stroll through the corridors and there’d be some children just crying,” he shares, “I’d glance at them and think, you know, ‘I understand.'”

The schools in North Carolina are allocating millions towards crisis support services for students; state officials are carrying out a survey of students statewide to determine the most critical needs. They aim to recruit additional mental health personnel for schools that require it in the upcoming months. Officials in Asheville – unfamiliar with the threats of floods and hurricanes in this mountainous region – declare they have gained insights from their peers in the coastal areas of the state.

Nevertheless, there exists a feeling of moving forward without a defined guide for recovery. “ I would appreciate a solid blueprint,” comments Pachovia Lovett, who is employed by the North Carolina Department of Public Instruction and is managing the efforts for mental health recovery. “But it’s quite challenging to discover.”

Sebastian Saralleno Paez believes the ordeal has transformed him into a better individual, even if it has aged him too quickly. “It’s terrifying how close you can come to not being able to see your dear ones or those you cherish anymore,” he states. Yet he feels more mature now, and more thankful for his life events, both good and bad.

Recently, Sebastian has been applying to colleges. He aspires to attend the University of North Carolina – Chapel Hill. He is uncertain about what he wishes to study, but he remains unconcerned. He has a lifetime to make that choice.