Suburban crisis lines struggle to assist callers

A well-educated, 56-year-old woman recently called the DuPage County Health Department's 24-hour Access and Crisis Line because she couldn't eat or sleep.

Both she and her husband had lost their jobs. The woman had sent out 400 resumes without a single response; her husband felt so hopeless about finding something new that he stopped trying.

Over at The Crisis Line of the Fox Valley, there was a call from a woman who had fallen behind on her electric bill and didn't see how she'd ever be able to pay off the $2,500 balance.

"I can't even tell you how many desperate people there are on the phone who are looking for resources that are hard to find," said Cheryl Brown, program manager at Fox Valley crisis line. "It's beyond belief."

Several suburban crisis hotlines report they're getting "a few hundred" extra calls per month from people who, because of the recession, are now in need of psychological or financial assistance.

As the recession drives up the volume of calls to suburban crisis hotlines, it's also introducing a whole new type of clientele to many of these social service organizations. While they normally deal with low-income, mentally ill or substance abusing clients, local agencies say they're now hearing from more "typical" suburban residents, including white-collar professionals whose problems can almost all be attributed to the lousy economy.

"Now, the middle class is seeking our help," said Lori Runkle, who's been a senior clinician at Access and Crisis Center in Lombard for more than 25 years. "Some of these people are reaching out for help for the first time in their lives."

Runkle, who has done this job in economic hard times before, says this time around it's different because so many people lack health insurance. If someone needs to see a doctor, or get some anti-anxiety medication, social service workers can either put people on long waiting lists to see doctors or try to refer people to other agencies.

"But as you're saying it," Runkle said, "you know in your mind that you've already referred five other people there today. You don't know if they have any resources left."

Sue Berg, executive director of the Access and Crisis Center, said the recession is clearly impacting people's mental health.

Not everyone who calls 24-hour crisis hotlines qualifies for additional services. Sometimes the counselors just offer support by listening, sharing relaxation and coping techniques, or being a calm voice on the other end of the line.

"We're here for people and we're going to do the best we can," Berg said, "but we can't offer services we don't have."

The increased demand on 24-hour crisis hotlines creates a domino effect of problems. For one, it puts pressure on social service agencies to provide assistance. But most of these agencies are facing budget cuts, staff shortages and a dwindling pool of volunteers. Then it's up to state and local lawmakers to provide more funding - which they can't - so the burden ultimately falls on the taxpayers.

"It's a funding issue more than anything," said Phyllis DeMott, executive director of Lake County's A Safe Place, where calls to the crisis line are up and staffing is down. "We're trying to do the best we can. It's not like we can't answer the phone. But so many people are asking for help with the basics."

The Crisis Line of the Fox Valley reports 2,241 incoming calls in October 2007, and 3,021 in October 2008 - a whopping 35 percent increase. In the meantime, they have a hiring freeze, are struggling to find (and train) volunteers, and are hearing rumors of a $700,000 budget cut, Brown said.

It's a similar story at crisis lines around the suburbs.

"There's such a feeling of unease. No one is safe anymore," Brown said. "Some people call every single day - and as the demand goes up, we're struggling."

Finding and training volunteers can be a challenge, too, because, no matter how much they believe in the cause, fewer people can afford to work for free these days. Counselors say they, like the rest of the community, are just trying to do their best to weather the storm and help as many people as they can.

"I think we're all in this together, as a community, and we all want to help each other," Berg said. "It's just hard to hear from so many people who aren't doing well."