CALGARY — By the time Dr. Sarah Fung walked into her shift at the Peter Lougheed Centre emergency department on a Saturday night in November 2020, she already knew what was waiting. Not COVID patients — those were being managed. What filled the waiting room was something the public health models hadn't predicted: a wave of mental health emergencies that was overwhelming Calgary's hospitals.
"We were seeing teenagers who had attempted suicide. Mothers in psychotic breaks. Men who hadn't left their apartments in three months. Overdoses — so many overdoses," Dr. Fung told WestNet News. "COVID was the virus. But isolation was the epidemic nobody was tracking."
The Numbers That Should Haunt Us
While governments tracked COVID-19 case counts with precision, the collateral mental health damage was going largely unmeasured. WestNet News compiled data from Alberta Health Services, the Calgary Police Service, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, and community organizations to build a picture that officials were slow to acknowledge:
- Opioid deaths in Alberta surged 82% in 2020 compared to 2019, with 1,758 Albertans dying from drug poisoning — more than four times the province's COVID death toll for that year
- Domestic violence calls to Calgary police increased 18% during the first lockdown period (March-June 2020)
- The Calgary Distress Centre reported a 30% increase in crisis calls, with wait times sometimes exceeding 45 minutes
- Emergency department visits for self-harm among youth aged 12-17 increased 25% in Alberta during 2020
- Child abuse reports to Alberta Child and Family Services dropped 40% during lockdowns — not because abuse decreased, but because children were no longer in schools where teachers could report it
That last statistic is perhaps the most chilling. "When schools closed, we lost our eyes and ears on vulnerable children," said Patricia Jones, a child welfare advocate in Calgary. "The abuse didn't stop. The reporting stopped. And when schools reopened, the flood of reports was unlike anything workers had ever seen."
Isolation: A Poison Without a Vaccine
Human beings are fundamentally social creatures. Calgary — a city known for its community spirit, its neighbourhood associations, its Stampede-week camaraderie — was suddenly a city of closed doors and empty streets.
For seniors, the isolation was devastating. Retirement homes and long-term care facilities locked down hard, prohibiting family visits for months. WestNet News spoke to families who watched elderly parents with dementia deteriorate rapidly without the stimulation and connection of regular visits.
"My mother stopped recognizing me," said Tom Bradley, whose 84-year-old mother was in a Brenda Strafford Foundation care home in southwest Calgary. "Before lockdown, she knew my name, she'd smile when I walked in. By the time they let me visit again four months later, she looked through me like I was a stranger. The doctor said the isolation accelerated her cognitive decline by years."
For children, the damage was different but equally profound. Calgary child psychologist Dr. Amanda Rourke reported that by fall 2020, she was seeing anxiety and depression in children as young as six — kids who had developed separation anxiety so severe they couldn't be in a different room from their parents.
"Children learned during lockdown that the world is dangerous and people can make you sick," Dr. Rourke said. "Undoing that trauma — getting kids to trust that social contact is safe — has been one of the biggest clinical challenges of my career."
The Overdose Crisis: COVID's Deadliest Shadow
Alberta's opioid crisis, already severe before 2020, became a catastrophe during lockdowns. The mechanisms were straightforward: people who used drugs lost access to harm reduction services. Those in recovery lost their support networks. People who had never used drugs before turned to substances to cope with job loss, isolation, and despair.
In Calgary, the Sheldon M. Chumir Health Centre's supervised consumption site was operating at capacity. Outreach workers reported finding people unconscious in downtown alleys and Stephen Avenue doorways with increasing frequency. The fentanyl supply became more toxic, with carfentanil — 100 times more potent than fentanyl — appearing in street drugs at higher rates.
"Every lockdown measure that reduced COVID transmission also cut off lifelines for people with addictions," said Mara Grunau, executive director of the Centre for Suicide Prevention, based in Calgary. "We made a calculation — probably the right one for COVID — but we need to be honest that the cost was measured in other lives lost."
A System That Wasn't Built for This
Alberta's mental health system was strained before COVID-19. Wait times for publicly funded therapy already stretched months. Psychiatrist shortages meant some Calgarians drove to Edmonton or Red Deer for appointments. School counsellors were overloaded. Community organizations were underfunded.
Into this already-fragile system crashed a tsunami of need. By late 2020, wait times for publicly funded psychological services in Calgary exceeded six months for adults and four months for children. Private therapists — accessible only to those who could afford $180-$250 per session — had full caseloads and waitlists of their own.
"We were triaging who gets help based on who is most likely to die without it," said Dr. Nicholas Mitchell, a psychiatrist at the Foothills Medical Centre. "That's not mental healthcare. That's crisis management."
The Debate Nobody Wanted to Have
Perhaps the most controversial aspect of the mental health crisis is the question it raises about lockdown policy itself. Were the lockdowns worth it? The question is incendiary — invoking it draws accusations of being anti-science or callous about COVID deaths. But it is a question that mental health professionals, educators, and social workers are quietly asking in professional settings across Calgary.
"I'm not an anti-lockdown person. I believe the restrictions saved lives from COVID," said Dr. Fung. "But I also watched people die from the restrictions. Overdoses. Suicides. People whose cancer was caught too late because they were afraid to go to the hospital. We saved lives and we lost lives, and I don't think we've been honest enough about the second part."
This is not a debate that lends itself to simple conclusions. The lockdowns almost certainly prevented thousands of COVID deaths in Alberta. But the secondary toll — in overdose deaths, suicides, delayed medical diagnoses, childhood developmental harm, and long-term mental health damage — is real and measurable. Any honest accounting of the pandemic must include both sides of that ledger.
The Recovery Will Take Years
Years after the lockdowns ended, Calgary is still dealing with the mental health aftershocks. Therapists report that anxiety disorders, depression, and substance use issues remain elevated well above pre-pandemic levels. Children who spent formative years in isolation are still catching up socially. And the opioid crisis, amplified by lockdowns, shows no signs of abating.
"We're going to be treating the mental health consequences of 2020 for at least a decade," said Dr. Rourke. "This wasn't a pause. It was a rupture. And the healing has barely begun."
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health or substance use, contact the Calgary Distress Centre at 403-266-HELP (4357) or the national crisis line at 988. You are not alone.
