My journey into the mental health industry is a bit of a mixed bag, which I absolutely adore because I believe it’s precisely what I needed to relate to the multifaceted complexities of others. It’s what cemented my allegiance to inclusivity. Fitness has always been a part of my life, and before entering the field, I was a personal trainer and taught special education to elementary-aged students. That further inspired me to go back to school for my masters in special education, with an emphasis in learning disabilities.

I then made the transition into Behavior Change work, obtaining a specialization in it before moving into Clinical Mental Health Counseling. I have an eternal flame lit for mental and emotional health, and during my master’s program, I was able to fan that flame through research. But the funny thing about the CMHC field for me, as someone who is attracted to community-building and authentic human-to-human connection, is that its foundation is exactly that: clinical! And my perspective is that life is lived in real-life settings, not clinical ones.

I respect that, and feel it’s worthy to hold space for it in a meaningful way. But ultimately, clinicals is a path that wasn’t intended for me. And I knew it, because it’s right there in the professional title—yet I still attempted it. But once I finally realized it, it just didn’t make any sense for me to try to force the fit.I saw an opportunity to carve out my own path in the Mental Health field, as a Mental Health Enabler, and started d.Constructed in the summer of 2023.

Jessica , before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

The most important thing to know is that I am unapologetically human! It’s easy to lose sight of that these days, I think. I finally learned how to unashamedly embrace and hold space for myself in my humanness. I find joy and fulfillment in connecting with others, and have an uncanny knack for community building and bridging. I am comfortable sharing and often will intentionally share bits of myself with others in the name of legitimate human-to-human connection—which is ultimately what led me to the Mental Health industry. I’m no stranger to therapy, and have engaged in some form of it since middle school. I’ve done group, individual, talk, EMDR, sensory deprivation, and eastern methods. One thing I continually do is engage in personal development. It’s ongoing and consistent, and I learn so much about myself and others. Development is its own kind of healing.

I’m determined to make products that are organically engaging—gamelike—and that truly advance the equity and accessibility of mental health. I’ve been developing products and mental health guidance resources. Everything from check-in and reflection workbooks, to a dictionary for emotional vocabulary expansion, cards and other games, and more! I’m in the process of finishing a book on understanding mental health, which discusses factors that aren’t typically linked to mental health. It highlights and breaks down aspects for identifying and externalizing variables that impact our mental health. We tend to absorb an array of external happenings and assume responsibility for many of them. We’ve been disillusioned into believing we’re the one with an issue, when often, that’s simply not the case. Issues arise when we subscribe to imposing narratives that celebrate robotic or machine-like capabilities. We’re layered and unique and amazing, so yes, we CAN do certain things robotically and generate results. However, that’s not what makes us unique. We are so much more intricate and fascinating than robots, we’re humans!

The d.Constructed products and resources are information and education-centric, created for humans living in the day-to-day grind. Not everyone has or needs a clinical diagnosis. Not everyone feels comfortable devoting energy and/or time to locating a therapist. Some people are completely opposed to the idea of therapy, have cultural stigmas associated with it, and have shame surrounding seeking help. Others have trauma that specifically stems from their experience with clinical professionals. Or some have found amazing therapists, yet have plateaued and are unable to adequately relay or convey relevant aspects of themselves to their therapist. The products and resources I’ve created are for all of them, because that’s the population at large. And some people literally just need explicitly guided self help to know how to start or how to recalibrate for a comeback! I offer direct services, all education and information oriented, for them as well. People just want to know the practical options that are within reach to help increase or enhance their current mental health—without clinical jargon that feels out of touch, or a standing appointment that costs as much as a one-way airplane ticket.

The mental health field has lost the public’s trust. Public opinion of practitioners, and the industry as a whole, had been on the decline. The pandemic entered stage left and completely exposed the fragility of the industry, and that opinion all but plummeted. Attempts were made to do things the way they’ve traditionally been done in mental health care, despite the optics of virtual approaches. But certain forces render traditional approaches obsolete. And what sets me apart is my ability to identify gaps and generate ideas that haven’t been considered as viable solutions. I see several viable solutions that can work for legitimate mental health and healing, and I know I’m not the only one! I enable and empower people to be the gatekeepers of their own mental health. Unfortunately, as it goes with the helping industry (and numerous others), the demand was too lofty to be sufficiently met. We experienced the impacts collectively and individually; mental health workers and helping professionals are part of that collective. With the echoes of COVID still reverberating, I think we’re unequivocally left in a zero-sum situation…if nothing changes.

I view mental health as the standard of health, versus something to chase after throughout the course of life. This requires unlearning what we think we know about it, and fully experiencing it firsthand. Knowledge is what’s so empowering. To know something to the core and at its essence, especially related specifically to us as individual unique beings, no one on or off the planet can sway that. You ask me what my name is, I’ma say “Jessica” off the rip. If I didn’t identify with that name, I wouldn’t offer it up when asked. My answer would be the name I identified with. My business name, d.Constructed, has a layered meaning. My maiden name is Driskell, which I’m very proud of and wanted to honor as part of my heritage. Further, there are several constructs that are in direct disservice to mental health. Examining and unveiling these constructs, and then repurposing them, is the word-play layer. The double entendre of the name, d.Constructed, is in the transformation of non-serving constructs. ‘Constructed’, then, meaning the creation of something that serves and enhances mental health. This is what I want to convey. There’s decisiveness and intentionality involved in unveiling and examining constructs.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

Ten years ago I was a competitive athlete. I still have trophies and medals, and all the cliche t-shirts, bibs, and many of the swag gifts from my time in that world. We’re told that working out and body movement is one of the pillars to optimal mental health. At the time, I thought I’d found (capital) T-H-E destination to happiness. I began working out when I was pretty young. I fell in love with distance running, because I watched my dad engage in it. I can’t even count the number of Saturday mornings across my childhood where my dad would be participating in a road race. My mom and I would drive out to cheer him on and greet him once he’d finished. I remember noticing that after each race, he’d have a banana or muffin that he’d slide my way. Plus he’d receive all this cool swag…and the shirts! I’m an only child and seeing him collect all the post-race things, I wanted these for myself. I completed my first race in January of 1992. I was 9. By high school, I’d developed an unhealthy relationship with weight, cross- and strength-training, as well as with myself and food. I didn’t stop religiously participating in races until after I’d entered into the world of bodybuilding. I was in my 30s. I thought it was what kept me “in line”.

I’d struggled with an eating disorder for years prior to my official status of competitive athlete, and once I was immersed in the industry, nothing changed. It’s a reality within the African American community that was not openly discussed as something that impacts our community members. This was difficult for me, because I experienced a sense of what I’m labeling as intersectional othering. I knew I had these specific challenges, and I also knew that the perception in the Black community was that our people are immune to eating disorders. This left me with a hyper-awareness that dictated my thinking—and perpetuated my behavior. It was all during the time when Instagram was relatively new and before there were all of the options to share as much as we’re able to on the platform now. Social media hadn’t evolved to the level of vulnerability that we’re more accustomed to seeing now with users. I was working at a physiotherapy clinic, attending school post-baccalaureate, thinking that pursuing a physiotherapy degree was the way to make it all make sense. I had a drive to safeguard physical aspects of myself, which was predicated on my passion for anatomy and physiology. I loved witnessing the physical transformation and the fact that it was all done with purpose. There’s a symbolic component to it, right? One is both the clay and the sculptor. It’s poetic! Reflectively speaking, I wasn’t passionate about any of it. I felt exhausted, run down, and in many ways, lost—essentially, a hamster on the wheel. I loved the process of shaping and molding, I loved the community and sense of belonging, and yet, I felt so unhappy!

During that time—the beginning of the end, so to speak—I was involved in a traumatic assault. I was single, and had been speaking with someone through a dating app for a couple of months. They lived across state lines, about a two-hour drive from where I was living. Our second date turned into something straight out of a Lifetime original. I found myself fighting for my life. I’d traveled out of state for the date. The police that responded were less than helpful. I was victim-shamed, and when I asked if I could collect myself at the station, they directed me to a womens’ shelter instead. I remember driving back, feeling so many conflicting emotions. The most prominent one being guilt—specifically about my fight to get myself out of the situation, which I one-hundred percent knew was the only reason I was alive was to make the drive back home. I also knew that my survival was secured because of my in-the-moment actions to defend myself, and I did! I thought I’d feel relieved, but nope. I felt immense guilt, beyond measure. I worked at the physiotherapy clinic and was able to receive treatment. A few months later, I resigned from the clinic. I was a complete shell of myself. It was clear that I was done pursuing that track. Outside of a few close friends, and my cousin who I stayed with immediately following the incident, I didn’t speak about that experience for nearly five years.

Have you ever had to pivot?

As a teacher, I was so passionate about enabling students to tap into their unique genius. Year after year, I witnessed my students surpass expectations imposed on them by adults. It was my favorite thing about classroom teaching! Eventually, I found those community-building and bridging parts of me creating that in the context of special education. My teaching transcended elementary-aged students and extended the education to their parents and caregivers. I saw opportunities to integrate various elements of day-to-day living to enhance student learning. It was near effortless for me. I began to realize that I’d outgrown classroom teaching.

Not knowing exactly what was next, I defaulted to what I knew as a stable fixture in my life: working out. This time, however, I went the personal training route, which led to me instructing studio group fitness and indoor cycling classes. So much for the whole thought that “I’d outgrown classroom teaching”, right?! HA! Life has a funny way of redirecting us to our strengths until we fully know who we are at our core, the bigger picture of it all.

The closing reads as if I’m currently working in personal training or group fitness instruction, which is inaccurate. I am no longer professionally engaged in fitness at any level. I work full time as the Founder and CEO of d.Constructed.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @driskelljessica
• Other: [email protected]

Image Credits
Fitness photo credit: Rachael Langley