How to Talk About Mental Illness in an Era of Victimhood Culture.

Spoiler: I have no idea

Photo by Heike Amthor on Unsplash

This post might be rather short* because I am suffering from a particularly stubborn bout of depression. No amount of telling it to “do one” appears to be helping. Antidepressants are having limited benefit and the one thing that really does help, in my case (and many others) - exercise - is difficult for me to do regularly at the moment due to having one physical illness after another.

I have not suffered from depression before. In the past, I have suffered from OCD and I suppose I still do as it is not really a thing that goes away. The best case scenario is learning to recognise it & implement effective methods to nip in the bud so it does not take over your life. I was told I had made a “successful recovery” when I was 26 and discharged from mental health services. I think that is correct. It sneaks up on me at times but I am able to slap it down quite effectively.

I also suffered from self-harm, suicidal ideation and various substance abuse problems in my youth. The diagnosis for this is, apparently, “complex trauma” which sounds a little dramatic to my understated Britishness, but I know what it means and why I might have it, although I do not intend to disclose this at this time. The means of learning to manage these, for me, was pregnancy. During those 9 months, I could not do anything to alleviate intense emotional pain that could also harm my baby and this is when I learned that I could actually ride those feelings out without self-medicating or self-harming them away. Then, having a small person dependent on me meant that I could not do any of those things either. I successfully learnt to manage these feelings in non-destructive ways nearly 20 years ago, so I have been, to all intents and purposes, mentally well for nearly half my life now.

But currently I am depressed and I am not used to being depressed. I remember, in the past, when I was hospitalised for some other mental health problem, looking at the people who were profoundly depressed and thinking that it, at least, looked peaceful in comparison to the intense anxiety or emotional turmoil I was feeling. This was utterly wrong. It is not at all peaceful but much more like being in a dark pit of utter despair where absolutely nothing can bring any pleasure and doing the simplest thing feels overwhelmingly difficult. Also, you are convinced that you are utterly worthless and pathetic and the world and everyone you love would be better off without you.

There is good news for me, however. Because depression does not seem to be a problem I am naturally prone to, it has been diagnosed as “reactive depression.” This is just what it sounds like. A reaction to having a lot of horrible things happening in a row that can be expected to go away again. My father died, I lost my best friend and people kept persistently yelling at me on the internet and telling me why I was evil and/or stupid. I picked up a number of committed detractors which ranged from people just seemingly dedicating large chunks of their lives to reading everything I write in the least charitable way possible to people threatening to end my life with my rock. Oh, and working 14 hours a day trying to help everyday people in danger of cancellation and in deep distress didn’t help either.

But why I am telling you all this? Why is this outpouring of my woes happening on my SubStack and not in my journal or to my therapist? Isn’t this self-indulgent, '“poor me” whining coming from someone who, in reality, is one of the most fortunate human beings ever to exist with absolutely no ‘real’ reason to be depressed about anything? That’s certainly what it feels like and one of the reasons that I don’t generally do it. The other reason is that I am just way too British to comfortably admit to having emotions of any kind.

Nevertheless, I am doing it and I am significantly torn on whether doing it is a good thing or not. This is because I believe two things to be true at once:

1. There really is a stigma on mental illness and when people who have any kind of public profile and suffer from it speak openly about it this can be helpful and reassuring to other people who have no such platform. It makes others feel less alone and more able to talk about it to people who can help them manage it.

2. There really is a victimhood culture thing going on right now where some people, particularly young ones, have been taught to have an expectation to never have to feel and manage intensely distressing emotions. That this is not a normal part of being a human. Further, if they do feel them, this is the fault of society which needs to change to prevent them from being exposed to any ideas that they might find upsetting at the same time as learning to read almost anything as a microagression that literally harms or erases them. Worst of all, to my mind, is a growing tendency to take on mental illness or trauma as a form of politicised identity that confers victimhood status in a victimhood culture. This is truly a serious problem because once somebody takes something on as an identity, even when it is a negative thing that is harming them, they become attached to it and ‘lean into’ it, allowing it to define them more and more. This seriously disincentivises overcoming it or learning to live with it, which must surely be the aim with mental illness.

What then is the responsible thing to do if you are someone who has something of a following/readership and is also currently suffering from depression or any other mental illness? Do you swallow down your natural ‘reserve’ and horror of ‘oversharing’ and talk about it publicly, hoping to be a source of support for other people suffering from some form of mental illness and a deep reluctance to tell anyone what they are going through? Or do you keep your mouth mostly shut about it, apart from when encouraging people to seek effective support from evidence-based therapists like CBTs or Schema Therapists, advocate for ways to grow resilience and seeing this as a positive thing? Do you make your primary focus fighting the tendency to take on mental illness as an identity at the same time as opposing the existence of a growing culture that confers status on victimhood?

This might be the point where you are expecting me to tell you which of these I think we should do, but I’m afraid I don’t know. I really don’t. I do consider it to be a problem that we are currently living in a cultural reality where this is something we have to weigh up and I think there are useful things we can do to change that culture. There must be some way in which we can push for a society in which people can openly speak about their struggles with mental illness without fear of stigma. But, at the same time, encourage them to be able to do this without making it into their identity to be proud of and lean further into while claiming a victimhood status and demanding an increasing number of trigger warnings on everything.

I’m not entirely sure how to hit that balance in my own writing and all suggestions are very welcome (except those which tell me how the very writing of this makes me racist, ableist, transphobic, fatphobic and/or worthy of being bludgeoned to death with a rock). I have thought, for some time, however, that I want to focus more on both disability studies and activism and fat studies and activism. I have a chapter about these in Cynical Theories but they are part of the intersectional framework or ‘matrix of domination’ that gets least attention and are least well understood. They are also, to my mind, some of the most directly dangerous to those who buy into them as, at their worst, they encourage people to actively endeavour to become more overweight, more disabled or more mentally ill and to take on these aspects of themselves as a politicised identity. They deny the medical science that could genuinely help people and accuse anybody seeking to become less obese, less disabled or less mentally ill of betrayal, internalised fatphobia and ableism and attempt to bully them into shutting up about any wish they might have to feel better and healthier.

I am in a good position to address these two lesser known forms of Critical Social Justice activism as I am definitely both fat and disabled and I am also currently suffering from the common mental illness of depression. I do not myself believe that being fat, disabled or depressed makes me an expert on any of these problems but, with the CSJ focus on lived experience and identity, I am less easily dismissible by them within their own epistemology and ethical framework.

I was recently able to weigh in (pun very much intended) on the accusations of fatphobia made against Taylor Swift’s new “Anti-Hero” video due to the fact that I was observably more fat than most of the Fat Activists objecting to it. This does not protect me from accusations of internalised fatphobia, of course, but I can provide some kind of counterview without being accused of ignorance due to my thin privilege. Hopefully, it can be a balanced counterview as I both believe that unwarranted prejudice against the obese exists and that current Fat Activism is not fit for the purpose of opposing it. My ideal form of Fat Activism would both oppose any bullying of the obese or assumption that we are incompetent generally or that every health problem we have is caused by our obesity, and also support people to find their own individualised way of either losing weight or mitigating the health risks that come with obesity (or both).

I am also quite demonstrably disabled and have the ultrasound images of my kidney abnormality, MRI scans of my brain cyst and mental health diagnoses to prove it. This gives me some credibility when opposing unhelpful forms of Disability Activism but not much because many people are much more disabled than me and in more visible ways. Nevertheless, I again believe that disabled people face certain unnecessary social disadvantages and that Disability Activism is unfit for the purpose of addressing them. My ideal form of Disability Activism would focus much more on improving accessibility, advocacy with unhelpful medical providers and supporting disabled people with living fuller lives. My uncle, who suffered from Multiple Sclerosis, did much of this and I would proud to carry on his legacy.

When it comes to mental illness, my way forwards is less clear but the principle is the same. There is still a stigma against mental illness and it does still need to be addressed so that it is easier for people to speak about it and get support. Men, in particular, would be benefitted by this as they are already at a disadvantage due to their greater tendency towards traits of stoicism (on average), a general lack of sympathy for men who struggle to cope psychologically and their greater numbers among those who successfully end their own lives. But again, CSJ activism which intends to address this is not fit for purpose, having instead a tendency to pathologise perfectly normal and healthy traits more commonly associated with masculinity rather than correctly identify those men who are genuinely suffering from mental illness and offer them support in a way that works with a more pro-active masculine psychology. Nor is it very useful for women or anybody in its general approach to mental health issues by encouraging the formation of a high-status victimhood identity around mental illness or by developing a culture that valorises fragility and victimhood. The best book on this from a psychological perspective is The Coddling of The American Mind by Lukianoff and Haidt. Its relevance extends beyond the United States. For a sociological perspective, The Rise of Victimhood Culture by Campbell and Manning is, I would argue, of much value. Both of them treat the issues and those suffering the fallout from them - mostly Generation Z - with compassion and respect.

I am not yet sure what I myself will do when it comes to discussing mental health. I suspect I will continue not to discuss my own much at all but will make the effort to do so occasionally and be supportive of others who are struggling. I am a private person and I do feel shame at not being able to simply throw off this depression thing by sheer force of will, although I have absolutely no patience with anyone who suggests anyone else suffering from depression should just “snap out of it.” This is often the way, of course. I think the best advice I have received and which I am confident to pass on to anybody else beating themselves up for not simply getting over a mental illness is to treat and advise yourself as you would someone you love. Do you find yourself telling yourself to ‘Get a grip’ or asking yourself ‘What do you have to be depressed about?’ or castigating yourself for being “weak,” “pathetic” or “lazy?” If so, would you ever speak to anybody else suffering from depression in this way? If the answer to the first is “Yes” and the second is “No,” then I believe you are like very many people suffering from depression, including me. Let’s agree to be as kind to ourselves as we would be to other people and also try to find a way through this quagmire that makes addressing issues of mental health so difficult right now.

*Of course, this piece did not end up being short although it is somewhat rambly and disjointed. When I say I will write a short piece, you should regard this with as much credibility as when I start a Twitter thread with 1/2.