Closing Pocasset Mental Health Center Is Not An Option - Editorial
Like many residents of Cape Cod, we were disappointed to learn that Governor Maura Healey’s proposed cuts to the Department of Mental Health’s budget included the closure of the Pocasset Mental Health Center. It came off as a bad idea to begin with—shuttering the only state-run mental health facility in the county? It certainly does not sound advisable.
Our dismay morphed into something else entirely, though, as we watched the greater Cape Cod community come together to fiercely advocate for continued operation of the facility. The more we learned, the worse that objectively bad closure idea started to sound.
The proposed closure was the talk of several meetings and forums in the weeks since its announcement, and letters of opposition have come out of town select board meetings from Bourne all the way down to Wellfleet. Parents of children who have sought care at the Pocasset facility have spoken up to share their personal experiences, attesting firsthand to the critical role the 16-bed mental health center plays within the broader Cape Cod community. The stories—from parents speaking to the “vital” services provided there, and from former and current mental health workers about the deep bonds formed with patients who, with virtually no other options, found their way to the Pocasset facility and, in turn, found success and a sense of belonging—had a raw, emotional power that is hard to deny. One former patient wrote in a letter that she was treated with dignity and respect at Pocasset “unlike larger, more-generalized programs,” and the facility was her last stop before she “gained much stability and a strong will to live.”
The impression left by these testimonies was obvious: the Pocasset Mental Health Center is a place of healing and a place where people in life-or-death situations are given the care and attention needed to see life as a possibility again. Closing down a place like that should be a nonstarter; rather, what we should be doing is hearing this feedback, recognizing the critical care provided at this facility, and lifting it up by allocating the funding and staffing it needs to continue to provide such care. These community members, along with local and state elected officials, have banded together, forming a united front that says “we will not let this happen.” And that gives us hope.
The need for cuts to the state’s budget is obvious, but pinching pennies when it comes to the already abysmal state of mental health care is the wrong move. The swiftness with which the movement to save the facility materialized is evidence of that. The people have spoken, and called out the government on the dissonance—our government cannot both champion itself on the importance of mental health and then sever a lifeline in mental health services to an entire region.
In recent comments regarding the closure of the Pocasset facility and another in Canton, Pappas Rehabilitation Hospital, the governor said the facilities are “underused.” Based on what we heard, though, that doesn’t seem to be the case. She added that the services offered would be directed elsewhere. Redirecting services and patients sounds all well and good, but a promise is just not good enough when the lives of people—especially our youth—are at stake. Is there a plan delineating how, exactly, those services would be doled to the remaining facilities? The next closest state-run facilities are in Fall River and Taunton. There are a few community health centers, which have been touted as great alternative “one stop shops” for all mental health and substance treatment. They could be, if funding was adequate to support the demand for services. But it’s not.
So, what comes next? Well, we hope that the governor hears the peoples’ message loud and clear. We feel good knowing that our state and local elected officials are working hard on their constituents’ behalf to fight for the Pocasset facility. Sheriff Donna Buckley told the Barnstable County Assembly of Delegates earlier this month that the community has “never recovered” from the decision to close inpatient facilities 40 years ago. We think she’s right. Mental health crises are a leading cause of homelessness in America; with treatment facilities for those experiencing those types of crises, the region’s unhoused population will undoubtedly grow and subsequent incidents will be exacerbated. Oftentimes, the lack of treatment options all but forces people in crisis—especially individuals with marginalized identities, including people of color, low-income individuals and LGBTQ+ people—into confrontations with law enforcement. Correctional facilities have seemingly become one of the largest providers of mental health services in the country, and they are just not equipped for that. And without caseworkers to maintain treatment when incarcerated people are released, they are more likely to backslide. Other times, people in crisis wind up in emergency rooms, taking up beds in local hospitals that could have gone to someone else needing care, if only we had a designated treatment facility to send those individuals to. We can all but picture the stress closing Pocasset will put, say, on the already thinly stretched Falmouth Hospital emergency room staff. Why would our government consciously choose that? Is that really in the best interest of the people?
Mental health has been a public health crisis in America for generations, and it won’t get any better if our government—state and federal—undermines progress by slashing funds and closing facilities. There are already so few inpatient beds dedicated to providing Massachusetts residents with the mental health treatment they need. Eliminating the 16 beds the Pocasset facility provides would be a great disservice to the people of the Cape and islands. We just hope the governor hears us on that.