On Mental Health
In recent years, mental health has become a hot topic of discussion, mostly among those who don’t know much about it. It’s become a generalized reason for our behaviours, but what is “mental health” really? How has our discussion of it shifted its meaning, and has this meaning shift affected us?
The term initially indicated “absence of illness”. As such, mental health used to mean lacking an abnormal mental condition. Now, we use it to describe our minds writ large, which bleeds into our emotional experiences as well. If you ask anyone what “mental health” is nowadays, it’d be hard to give a cohesive definition. Honestly, it’s far too vague, now being associated with the good and the bad parts of our minds. The idea behind this meaning shift was good. It was supposed to reduce the stigma behind more socially acceptable mental illnesses, like anxiety and depression. But for those who face less “glamorous” illnesses, like schizophrenia or bipolar, they now get less attention than they deserve. They haven’t benefited from this change; only those who still fit the status quo.
Our overarching emphasis on health and fairness, alongside self-help books, has caused the term “mental health” to morph into a broad set of advice about how we should live. By naming mental health as the reason for our actions, we prioritize ourselves instead of considering how our behaviour affects others. Being an ass, but saying you’re “having a tough time right now” isn’t a good explanation for your asshole-ishness. Frankly, many things we do are despite our mental health: supporting friends and family, relationships that may end in heartbreak, or dedicating time and energy to an unsuccessful pursuit. These are activities that require a deeper internal engagement, something further and more innate than “mental health”.
Sometimes, life just fucking sucks. You aren’t going to be at your best every day, and sometimes people say things that hurt your feelings. You’ll be faced with unfairness, cruelty, or disdain, and it’ll hurt. The point is, though, that “Distressing or extreme states can at times be part of what makes for a life worth living.” Both joy and melancholy are unavoidable, and purposeful, in all of our lives. So why do we avoid negative emotions as soon as we notice them in ourselves? Of course, the widespread use of a term will eventually cause it to lose its meaning.
So, what does this generalization of “mental health” mean for actual diagnoses and mental illness? I think you’ve already seen some of the consequences. Online, people love to associate with a diagnosis for aesthetic reasons. They cling to a label to explain basic facets of human behaviour, facets they think are so quirky and somehow unique to themselves.
The most common type that you see on TikTok is the whole style of videos like, “signs you have ____”. The signs they say are indicative of mental illness, usually, ADHD or anxiety, are way too broad. Having sweaty hands sometimes doesn’t mean you have anxiety. Losing focus in class due to boredom isn’t ADHD. The fact that they titled their videos with “things I didn't know were related to ADHD” or “signs you may have ADHD” allows just enough wiggle room for deniability. When they’re called out, they just say “Oh, I’m not diagnosing anyone!” Sure, you might not be, but you’ll prompt them to diagnose themselves. The creators who make this kind of content try to be as general as possible to boost views. The more people it can apply to, the more attention it’ll get. This content is only focused on being shareable rather than informative, which is incredibly harmful when you remember just how many young people are on TikTok. This may convince younger people that this is what anxiety looks like. They’ve bastardized these real experiences for views. Then, their viewers will spout these same misinformed ideas to others, and the DSM-5 version of Telephone begins. Basically, we need to stop taking medical advice from people with fake vines in their rooms.
What you’ll notice about these creators is that they only seem to speak on a handful of illnesses. It’s always anxiety, depression, ADHD, or autism, it seems. What about all the other mental illnesses, the ones that don’t possess any qualities to bastardize? What about the hypothetical videos called “signs you have schizophrenia” or “signs you may have alcohol use disorder” (that’s a really controversial one. Just because you’re in college and it’s normalized doesn't mean you don’t have a problem. Y’all don’t want to admit you have alcoholism.).
The reason these videos don’t exist is because those illnesses can’t be glamorized, and the ones that are going in and out of vogue. For a while, depression was the “hot” mental illness to speak on. Being sad was seen as “tragically beautiful”, as if depression doesn’t have any other symptoms than just feeling a little down. Then, anxiety and social anxiety were touted as the reason why we may feel nervous in large gatherings (that’s a natural human trait. Shut up.) Now, adhd is the new hot mental illness on the block to milk for content. People joke about their supposed attention deficits, fixations or constant new hobbies, and forgetfulness. These are all qualities that exist in all of us, in small amounts. As such, anyone can associate with these videos, as our experiences are all relative. These accounts fail to mention the crippling task paralysis, impulsive and self-destructive behaviour, and just how much these symptoms interfere with daily life. The issue with self-diagnosis is that it should be used when your symptoms significantly interfere with your life. It needs to be an issue to be prevalent; that’s why they’re called illnesses. It’s not cute and quirky to associate with these for attention.
The one that grinds my gears the most is related to my own experiences. On TikTok, but especially on Tumblr and Twitter, eating disorders are glamorized constantly. People, often young girls, brag about how they haven’t eaten for days. They post body checks at alarming physical states, and the comments are full of people saying “body goals!”, “I wish I had your discipline”, or, fucking hell, even “I wish I had anorexia. Then I’d be thin.” It’s all fun and games until your body starts shutting down. Anorexia isn’t just being *skinny* and barely eating; it’s a disorder for a reason. Hair loss, tooth decay, fainting spells, constant cold, memory loss, and blue lips are just the start. Your body will grow fine hair all over in a desperate attempt to retain heat. You’ll lose the strength in your pelvic floor as your muscles degrade, so you won’t be able to control your bladder. If you let it go on enough, your heart will begin to fall apart and your organs will fail. Then, you’ll be dying in the hospital. The worst part? You’ll be so deeply miserable, you’ll have no space in your mind to even remember who you are. It’s not just being skinny. It’s not cute; it’s death.
That’s the current state of the internet; it’s full of people obsessed with attaching a buzzword and its associated traits to themselves. The obsession the internet has right now with prescribing every possible quirk and experience in their life with a buzzword is so exhausting. You see it a lot with the misuse of words like gaslighting, love bombing, empath, etc. It even extends to people self-diagnosing themselves with things like IBS. Like, you likely don’t have IBS, your diet is just shit. Please take care of yourself.
Of course, there are a ton of great resources now on the internet for people who can't get a formal diagnosis, or just want to learn more about mental health. I’ve even researched potential neurodivergence in myself, but I know anything I hear from anyone but a trained professional must be taken with a grain of salt. If you’re considering seeking help for a mental struggle, please speak to a mental health professional. And, for god’s sake, don’t glamorize struggles that kill so many every year. There are better ways to spend your time.
Some conceptual sources and light reading:
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