It's Mental Illness Innit Luv xx
Please be aware of MY mental health
Hi, my name is Emily and I have generalized anxiety disorder. I also have seasonal affective disorder, which was a weird one to get formally diagnosed with but also makes a lot of sense if we’ve ever talked during the months of April and May each year.
It’s the second to last day of Mental Health Awareness Month, a subject I am actively aware of all other 334 days of the year, so I thought it would be important to have a candid conversation with someone else who is also acutely aware of their mental health.
This week, my sister Audrey Sharp returns to talk about the problems with desensitizing mental illness, if celebrities help or hinder the efforts to destigmatize mental illness, and the relationship between Gen Z and their mental health.
Hi I’m Audrey, Emily’s sister, and I am back again not to talk about climate change, but to fulfill my favorite pastime of playing therapist. I like coming on E4P because it feels like a soft launch to my hopefully-one-day podcast.
I want to put a disclaimer that I am not a professional nor a psychology major so please don’t come for me if you don’t like what I say—this is all just my opinions from personal experience :)
Awareness For All!!
As always, we must start with some hard-hitting journalism:
Emily: Are you aware of your mental health?
Audrey: Yes… unfortunately or fortunately, you decide. I have generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. My anxiety disorder also triggers manifestations of obsessive-compulsive disorder.
I’ve always been extremely self-aware of my mental health, even before I had a tangible idea of what mental illnesses were. I think my earliest recollection of acknowledging my mental health was when mom would read to me Wemberly Worried to make me feel better, and I thought, “Oh! She’s like me. That’s nice.”
With only one random exception, I’ve never talked honestly about my anxiety or my panic attacks online for a few reasons: the first was that I simply felt uncomfortable sharing it and was always nervous that other people would know I had anxiety despite frequently talking about it offline. The second was that I’m a hater before anything else, and I thought it made me better than others to not play into the trauma Olympics on social media.
But the third—and for the sake of real honesty this time, the most driving reason—was because I spent years convinced that no one else would ever understand what it felt like to be in my head so I would just look ridiculous if I ever shared anything. I still have to remind myself that this is not true on a daily basis but while it’s easier to do so in real life, it remains hard for me to overcome this when it comes to my online presence.
This is largely due to the fact that I didn’t (and still don’t) want to lean too much into the trend of desensitizing mental illness lest anything I said about my anxiety be received as disingenuous.
I asked Audi:
Emily: What is the difference between desensitization and destigmatization of mental health?
Audrey: Destigmatization is a cultural shift within society with the intent to open up honest conversations about mental illness, to not shame people into ignoring or hiding diagnoses they may live with, and puts a positive spin on something that can feel so ugly.
Desensitization of mental health is when mental illness is discussed improperly among the public that deters from the goal of actually breaking the stigma surrounding mental health, which is what I think has actually happened in our society. I think social media is the reason we subconsciously resulted in the desensitization of mental illness rather than breaking the stigma surrounding it.
Has this ever happened to you?
You’re telling a friend that you haven’t been sleeping lately and it’s starting to impact your day-to-day life. You’re trying to find a way to share this without being an alarmist but you’re getting pretty nervous and are worried about the repercussions.
And instead of offering support, your friend replies, “No, I actually only slept three hours last night. I’ve just had so much work—it’s crazy!”
You can fill in the blank with any other symptom or issue (“No, I’ve actually been super depressed lately since they ended This Is Us.” “I’m so anxious for this test!” “I really was so crazy last night—I was manic.”), because so many members of Gen Z, in particular, have either been the worried party or the one who feels like they need to prove that they have it worse.
Ironically, Gen Z does have it worse: a 2019 report “by the American Psychological Association found that Generation Z is 27% more likely than previous generations to report their mental health as fair or poor” (X). A lot of the concerns stem from unavoidable triggers, like “future careers, school shootings1, financial security, climate change, and societal unrest.” Yet, rather than endear members of our generation to one another, we compete to prove we are the saddest and most sleep-deprived of our friends.
Don’t get me wrong: this is not a new phenomenon—bitches have been doing this since ye olden days. It has just become much easier for Gen Z to partake in, due to social media (as is to be expected).
I asked Audi:
Emily: Why do you think so many people feel the need to participate in “trauma olympics” in high school and college?
Audrey: I think it’s almost a cry for help. We’re using all the wrong outlets to express feelings of negative mental health. The constant “one-up” from someone isn’t that they’re not listening to your issues, I believe it’s more just that they’re trying to get their own voice to be heard.
Essentially, we’re just dumping our issues onto each other when we don’t have the capacity or abilities to help one another. These feelings end up circulating rather than actually making it anywhere. “Anywhere” means talking about it to a professional in a reasonable setting and finding other ways to effectively channel the emotions.
Hm. I Wonder What Could Be the Problem Here…
As I was doing research for this piece, I found an article written by a young woman in secondary school (high school) in Canada that includes the following section:
Another trend on Tiktok is turning interests, actions or personality traits into symptoms of a mental illness. Listing to a certain artist, looking a certain way or even enjoying certain drinks have become a calling card for being “mentally ill.” Maybe these actions are more commonly taken by people who have been diagnosed with mental illness, but it reduces our ability to view mental illness as an illness. Mental illness should not be portrayed as the thing that allows you to be part of a cool club. People are not depressed because they drink Monster, they are depressed because they cannot muster the energy to leave their bed. (X)
The trauma Olympics are taken to a new extreme on social media where habits like those mentioned in the quote along with so many others are spun out of context for the sake of being “cool.” Yet, actual mental illness is still often stigmatized. Think of it this way: no one ever glamorizes the episode of Euphoria where Rue can’t pee while in the throes of her depression.
What results is a desensitization to mental illness where symptoms and manifestations are downplayed and not taken seriously. Desensitization, in general, is a new and ever-growing problematic byproduct of social media where scrolling and repetitive commentary can numb users but when it comes to something far more personal than the daily news, the impact of desensitization can hurt a lot more.
I asked Audi:
Emily: What are your thoughts on social media’s desensitization to mental illness? Is it something that is trendy?
Audrey: Personally, it makes me angry.
I think the way people use social media to talk about mental health on platforms like Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, and TikTok, in particular, makes mental illness out to be “trendy.” It’s so cringe saying it, but social media addresses mental illness in the form of memes instead of a legitimate conversation. It has coined terms like “trauma dumping” and “depression meal,” or just general shock humor that people use to express feelings about their mental health rather than productively talking about it.
People will use their finstas [fake Instagrams] or private stories to post crying selfies with a caption attached about some really hardcore shit like depression, bipolar disorder, and eating disorders. This is not a healthy way to talk about it, can be triggering to other people, and, in general, just benumbs people so that they don't understand the magnitude of the problems surrounding them.
I will admit too that I contributed to this for so much of my adolescence. In high school, I always used my finsta, and eventually my private story, to constantly complain about my day, talk about the problems I had going on, and subtweet friends when I felt left out. It sounds shitty because it was, but everyone was doing it.
By the time I got to high school, I was aware I had depression and I knew I was dealing with anxiety pretty intensely, yet in retrospect, I really did not have an appropriate outlet to put all of my thoughts and emotions. It almost made it feel like my mental illness wasn’t real because I was so numb to the feeling of it and the way I addressed it, that I didn’t realize how heavily I was living with the weight of it. As dramatic as it sounds, it’s very real, and it’s not until you get to the other side that you realize the truth of that matter.
Even though our generation is moving into the early adulthood phase of our lives, I unfortunately still see this in so many peers of mine and I hate to think some people will never escape it.
Emily: In what ways does this trend actually hinder efforts to destigmatize mental illness?
Audrey: I think people have really crooked ways of talking about mental illness as I mentioned.
I find it almost harder to talk about how I’m feeling to the people around me. I’m ashamed to admit that if I had to choose, I would be more comfortable making a post about my thoughts on my private story rather than telling my friends and family why I’m feeling down. And I know that’s the same for almost everyone around my age, whether they actually want to admit it or not.
I also think equating trends with mental illness diminishes its seriousness and authenticity by wrongfully romanticizing it. For example, I agree that the concept of That Girl, which you’ve talked about, is a positive thing in the sense that we are embracing “being like other girls.” On the other side of it, though, as someone who has established routines of waking up early, exercising, journaling, showering, and trying to feel clean because it helps me gain back control of my mind and life, the criticisms and judgment towards it put me in a weird place. I don’t want to be made fun of because I need that to survive, you know?
Those habits, as silly as it sounds, are so much more to me than how it’s aesthetically posted on TikTok. Yes, being That Girl is fun and cool and trendy and I love watching people’s calming morning routines, but this trend makes that lifestyle seem so glamorous when the reality is that it really is not. Social media doesn’t show the feeling of not being able to get out of bed and how the constant practice of those routines is just to do so.
We’re so used to this desensitized version of discussing mental illness but won’t approach it in a real way when we’re actually supposed to. It’s either a desensitized version of mental illness or a picture-perfect life on social media; there’s no transparency.
The first time I can remember having a panic attack was at the end of my junior year of high school. When they continued, I learned how to sense them and would lay down in my bathtub to protect myself. I needed to learn to do this because when I have an attack, I blackout for a few minutes and don’t want to roll off my bed or into anything. I wake up to bright red marks on my chest that, for the sake of a clear image, look like an animal attacked me because I’m often trying to get at my lungs so I can breathe. I feel empty for a day or so afterward before I can recover mentally and physically.
I have had three since moving to New York last June and I’ll probably have at least another one before the end of this year.
This is excruciating to share right now but given today’s conversation, I feel like it’s important to talk about my mental health as it is. I used to beat myself up each time I had a panic attack, resetting arbitrary milestones that only served to make me feel worse and had actually no effect on anyone else whatsoever. Even though no one could see these when they happened, I used to feel that I was worse than everyone around me—and not in the aforementioned trauma Olympics way. I thought I was horrifying and insane and broken when in reality, I am not any better or worse than anyone because of my mental illness. (I am, however, better than everyone else because I’m amazing but that has nothing to do with my anxiety!)
This is why we need to destigmatize mental illnesses and combat desensitizing ourselves toward what people are going through.
You’re not going to stop reading this because I’ve shared this with you, but I have not done any favors to sugarcoat some of the challenges I face. I do not need your pity or for you to tell me, “That’s so hard,” because I know it is. I am not sharing for clout—I am sharing so that someone might feel comfortable texting me after this to talk about their attacks. I’m sharing so both of my parents know what a panic attack looks like for me should they ever witness it. I’m sharing because this is something that has happened to me, that will continue to happen to me, and that should not change how anyone thinks of me.
Now let’s talk about Miley Cyrus!
Gotta Keep an Eye Out for Selener’s Mental Health Content
While we don’t have the time here to get into the entirety of celebrity culture, it is important to reflect on how they discuss mental health on social media as they are the driving members of these platforms.
We talked briefly about the Bella Hadid crying pictures of it all and how even after that moment of (benefit of the doubt here) genuine vulnerability, Hadid still returned to a highly curated, romanticized feed. When more people than ever seek to emulate the social media presence of their favorite celebs, what does that mean for mental health awareness?
Emily: Do you think it’s more helpful or more detrimental to see celebrities talk about their mental health on social media?
Audrey: Most of the time, I think it’s detrimental because celebrities also don’t reflect accurate ways to talk about mental health. But that is not their fault: I don’t think they should simply because of the fact that they’re real people with real issues, as much as we tend to make them out to be just a household name for our entertainment.
I don’t believe celebrities should be tasked with leading this movement just because they’re in the public eye so what they’re going to say or do matters— that’s a lot of pressure. I think the public is so critical which takes away from the whole point of celebrities speaking out about mental health on social media.
That is also our fault; we basically trap them, demand they talk about topics like mental health (and other political and current events) because they have the platform to do so, and make them speak out when they’re not fully educated, comfortable, or even totally aware of their own mental health, only to then criticize them for not doing it right.
If they grew up on the same social media platforms like us, how do we expect them to tackle the conversation of mental health better than we do? Sometimes it’s okay to just let celebrities be there for the entertainment they produce; they’re not doctors or licensed educators.
Emily: Are there any celebrities who you think do a good job at conveying their mental health genuinely? If so, what makes them stand out?
Audrey: I think the ones that I noticed and trust their word of are the ones who probably have undergone the most trauma in the public eye: the original 2000’s/Disney trifold It-Girls: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, and Miley Cyrus.
I think these women are unapologetically themselves and maturely and reflectively talk about their experiences. I think they truthfully open up about situations in their lives that have affected their mental states, how they’ve gone through it and what they’re going to do going forward, and are able to give wise words and advice to people possibly feeling the same way.
But what about the rest of us? Is there a way to talk about our mental health in this online day and age in a positive way, or is it something that should be reserved for IRL conversations? While I know there’s no right answer to this question that would apply to everyone, I still wanted Audrey’s opinion:
Emily: When I’ve talked honestly about my mental health with others in person, it’s connected me a lot more to them. Is there a way to translate this experience online with people I might not see every day, or is the act of publicly sharing it inherently performative?
Audrey: I think it’s inherently performative.
I also connect with people a lot more when we have discussions in person. I don’t believe publicly sharing information like that can be anywhere near as impactful as it is opening up to someone, or multiple people, face to face.
Yes, I agree that social media shouldn’t be heavily saturated with these facades of people’s lives that everything is picture perfect and aesthetic, but posting a We The Urban infographic doesn’t count as therapy and is not a suitable way to only manage your mental health.
Although the APA report did show that Gen Z grapples with more mental illness than previous generations, it also noted that we are more likely to seek out help: according to Counseling Today, 37% of Gen Z has worked with a mental health professional.
The report also found that
more than nine in 10 Gen Z adults (91%) said they have experienced at least one physical or emotional symptom because of stress, such as feeling depressed or sad (58 percent) or lacking interest, motivation or energy (55%). Only half of all Gen Zs feel like they do enough to manage their stress. (X)
I wanted to know Audi’s lived experience with this, so I asked:
Emily: Do you think, given all this, Gen Z does genuinely live with more mental illness than other generations or do they just claim to? Are we just more inclined to talk about mental health than previous generations?
Audrey: I think to a certain extent, yes, but not majorly. It was still present in earlier generations, but was never accurately addressed or sufficiently discussed; it was more that people thought they had to live with it by swallowing and drowning it with other coping mechanisms that in reality caused it to bubble up in other forms like alcoholism, violence, gambling, etc. Although, I think my generation has substantially been handed a thousand more factors that contribute to mental illness than past generations.
We definitely are more inclined to talk about mental health because of our educational system and society’s effort to create a conversation about it. Older generations approached mental health like it was taboo while it’s been confirmed that today, due to the young demographic on social media, more than ever have people been reporting issues of mental health.
I’ve actually been very impressed by how honest people of my generation have been about how COVID-19 has affected everyone’s mental health. I know people who in high school admitted that they didn’t deal with anxiety or mental illness in the same way as others but now are openly in therapy. Not that there’s anything wrong per se, but just that it simply IS hard living life and the past two years haven’t helped anything.
Not everyone is diagnosed with a mental disorder, but that doesn’t mean everyone’s mental health is perfect and it’s okay to talk about it.
However, there is still a distinction between prolonged feelings of being sad and having diagnosed mental disorders, and I think that’s a line that social media has tended to distort over time resulting in that loss of true authenticity and connection that comes with destigmatizing mental illness.
Peaks and Valleys
Before we close out today’s conversation, I think it’s important to highlight a crucial element that often goes undiscussed on social media: not every day is a bad day for those living with a mental illness.
Of course, there are some illnesses that impede day-to-day life more than others; some that require daily medication or other treatment; some that are treatment-resistant; some that require supervision in a facility; some that result in tragedy.
But for many people, some days are far more manageable than others. Some days are really good; some days, your illness inspires something positive like art or a new connection; some days you have a breakthrough with your treatment; some days, your illness may mind its damn business.
Perhaps this isn’t a larger part of this conversation because it devalues the power of the trauma Olympics. Or maybe because it’s hard to explain gratitude for a mental illness. Or maybe it’s something else entirely—I’m not sure.
One thing that has helped me throughout my own journey with my mental health is the phrase peaks and valleys, which my mom would tell me to remind myself that for every bad day (a valley), there will be a good one (a peak). Some days will be neither as you travel between the highs and lows, and some days could see both a peak and a valley.
But, most importantly, there will always be another day.
Everyone knows I’ll sing Audrey’s praises until the end of time and we literally talk every single day but I’m so grateful she wanted to come on today to talk about this!!! She’s so cool and inspiring and I love her!!!!
Should you or anyone you know ever need it, there is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders that can be reached at 1-800-662-HELP (4357) or by texting your zip code to 435748 (HELP4U).
In the wake of the elementary school shooting in Uvalde, Texas last week, I feel it’s important to point out that Gen Z lists school shootings as their greatest source of stress with “75% of Gen Z members said that mass shootings are a significant source of stress.”