Penn Raine: I have Mental Health Issues

That is, I have an issue with the way the term ‘mental health’ is characterised by the media, social or otherwise, by people with their hands on the handle of the spin machine and everyone else who is using the phrase glibly and, let’s be honest, mostly dishonestly.

Oh, I know that the reductionist argument goes like this:

 

A negative event has occurred in my life.

I used to feel ok and now I don’t.

My mind is confused, depressed therefore unhealthy.

My mind is my mental state.

Therefore, I have mental health issues.

 

Not so long ago if you had said that you suffered from mental health issues a listener might have assumed psychiatrists, anti-psychotic drugs, spells in sanatoria perhaps. Also, PTSD, bi-polar disorder, clinical depression, ADHD, OCD and more. Now the phrase has a much wider application and is used to describe anyone’s state who has a negative reaction to a life event. Reactions which often present as sadness, anger, or a generalised inability to cope temporarily now have a much grander label.

 

Of course, to be unsympathetic to people who are bereaved, have suffered a relationship breakup, or lost their job is inhumane, as the global growth of counselling services can attest. It is rare to read a news story in which violence or some trauma has been reported and not to read the words ‘the victims have been offered counselling’.  But here’s the thing, these are events which if not temporary themselves the effects will grow less over time. Being publicly dumped by your partner, for example, shouldn’t be a catalyst for ‘mental health issues’. Anger, sadness, bouts with alcohol, yes, but real mental health issues, no.

 

Maybe avoid shoplifting from fancy frock shops as well.

 

Members of my family have had mental health issues. They won’t ever completely go away, despite cognitive therapies, psychotropic drugs, long bouts with psychiatrists and hospital care. Sometimes the ‘issues’ are barely there, sometimes they are overwhelming, but what these people I care about suffer from can only ever be managed not cured. How do they, and others similarly afflicted, feel when public figures in particular wave the ‘mental health issues’ card in the air for a sympathy vote? Do they feel as if their diagnosed and clinically recognised states are being hijacked?

 

It isn’t as if there’s more shame in saying ‘I can’t get over my dad’s death’, or ‘I’ve been made redundant,’ than ‘I’m an addict’ which is confession so common among the glamourati as to be a badge of honour. Indeed, it seems that to have a mental health disorder can offer an excuse because it can’t be your fault, you have an illness. Like Covid. You can hitch yourself to Sir John Kirwan’s courage, and experience the halo effect of his honesty about his own mental health struggles. If you are wanting to join the tyrannical minority of victims, this is a useful first step to a whole slew of grievances.

 

Winning!

 

A colleague of mine once took a week away from work following the death of a dog. It was an old and valued friend to its owner who was single and had no family in this country. If the reason for the absence had been explained as ‘mental health issues’ our sympathy would have been less warm and genuine because we would have felt that some level of evasion, some lack of honesty had been offered to us in place of a fair and relatable reason.

And I do wonder at the lack of imagination and breadth of advice given by PR firms called in to manage the fall out of bad behaviour from public figures. Is anyone else bored with statements that talk about ‘seeking help for my issues’ and ‘spending more time with my family’. Chances are your family aren’t breathless to have extra time in your company just now and never mind about paying someone to listen to you emote about yourself. Just say, ‘I’ve been a complete mong and I’m going to plant trees for a charity.’

 

Or something. 

 

And then there are the unintended consequences of  embracing this fashionable affliction. I’m imagining being on an appointments committee again, and just for the sake of argument let’s suppose that there are two equally appointable candidates, all the equity and diversity boxes have been ticked and we know that one of the applicants has disclosed mental health issues. I don’t think that I would be suggesting that we give the job to the person with the health issues. This is because, no matter how much sympathy I might have on a personal level, I would be foreseeing future problems with the smooth-running of the organisation and a negative impact on the well-being of staff already doing their best. 

 

Call me awful.

 

But I would prefer to know that claimants taking this popular excuse just acknowledge a human error, a temporary lack of judgement that may have been triggered by something quite ordinary going wrong. Or just because they were a bit of an idiot. So, to all you stars in the public firmament who have committed an oopsie in the bathroom of a favoured city bar or other career catastrophe, when an excitable PR spinner advises you to claim that the moment was down to ‘mental health issues’ just say, ‘Yeah, nah’, out of respect for those who have to live their entire lives with catastrophic biochemistries.

Penn Raine is an educator and writer who lives in NZ and France.