Why ‘Self Care’ is bad for your Mental Health
The importance of community in Mental Health treatment
It’s the summer of 2019 and a 15-year old girl from Sweden has just told a room full of some of the most powerful people in the world that our planet is dying. Hate-crimes against LGBTQ communities are on the rise, the domestic violence death toll in France is higher than ever, there is a civilian uprising in Sudan, airstrikes in Libya and two dangerously disillusioned men are currently in charge of the most powerful countries in the world. Communities feel more segregated than ever.
It is no wonder then, with all of this turmoil, that the phrase ‘Self Care’ produces 17,766,250 posts on Instagram. Self Care posts mainly consist of Açaí bowls and Turmeric lattes, quotes like ‘Less stress more facials’, and an infinite array of workout selfies and body transformation posts. There is an endless sea of product ads for Bite Guards, Face Masks, Jade Facial Rollers and fancy Scent Diffusers. We are a generation obsessed with ‘Treat Yourself’ culture, and it seems many of us are going to great lengths to prove just how vigorously we are attempting to care for ourselves.
The irony of all of this Self Caring is that it has seemingly become a competition of personal wellbeing. As ‘connected’ as we are by social media, the ‘Self Care’ trend appears to point to the opposite. Many of us are feeling more alone than ever, and Mental Health issues amongst young people continue to be a growing concern.
Self Care is now a competitive sport. We are desperate to demonstrate how many Amethysts we have placed strategically around our bed and how much time we are taking to indulge in beauty treatments as a reward for working ourselves into the ground. Millennials are now being dubbed ‘The Burnout Generation’. Furthermore, it is no secret that the importance of mental health has historically been vastly discredited by the UK government.
Could it be that the reason that the marketing of Self Care works so well on Millennials is that we are seemingly drowning under the pressure of modern day life, and our government is failing to support us? With a new Prime Minister that so few of us elected, it feels like the systems in place that are supposed to protect us can no longer be trusted. When it comes to mental health, this feeling of neglect and abandonment is seriously dangerous.
The Self Care trend demonstrates that we are a generation that is hyper-aware of the importance of mental health issues, without any of the tools or communal support to properly deal with them. In our fast paced lives Self Care techniques seem like a quicker solution to our deeper issues, and its not uncommon to wait months for an appointment with a counsellor.
The temptation to indulge in products is everywhere. Working unbearable hours to afford your rent? Try this de-puffing eye mask for your sleep deprived face. Lost your underpaid job? Hide your tears with this overpriced sheet mask. On the verge of another public mental breakdown? Don’t fret, indulge in that Avocado Cronut whilst you cry away your Bobby Brown mascara on the tube. Navigating the complexities of modern life can feel mind boggling. It would appear, due to the amount of us that are currently suffering with anxiety disorders, that there is a sense of imminent doom amongst young people and our approach to mental health care in the UK is notoriously feeble.
I, like many of my friends have my own stories about visits to my GPs office that left me feeling alone and deflated. I was Nineteen when I first realised that my mental health was declining. I had just started university and moved to the other side of the country, from Yorkshire to Brighton. This was a somewhat overwhelming feat for a girl from a small town who hadn’t yet healed from a recent family trauma. After many distressed phone calls to my mother, she suggested that I visit my nearest GP.
I was baffled by my mother’s suggestion. Why would I visit a GP to tell them that I was desperately sad? I could not fathom what a doctor could possibly do to help me. As my state of despair worsened, I eventually took my mother’s advice and booked an appointment. I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by elderly members of the local community, and ruminated over what I would say during my ten minute consultation.
I was terrified of using the word ‘depressed’ and wondered what it might mean once i’d admitted I was suffering. I felt like everyone around me was enjoying the usual first year of university antics, and all I could do was lock myself away in my room. Once I was inside the GPs office, I began to try and explain how I was feeling. Words did not come easily. I felt ashamed and embarrassed, and the female doctor I was meeting with barely made eye contact whilst I sheepishly tried to explain myself.
The doctor eventually printed off a checklist from an NHS website and asked me to fill it out as best as I could. It was a list of questions with answers ranking from 1–5, such as: ‘Have you ever thought about hurting yourself or someone else?’. How could I answer these questions truthfully when I’d barely made eye contact with the person that was indirectly asking me them? I left feeling even more deflated than I had before, and walked away with a recommendation from the doctor that I visit the university counsellor. I was reluctant to do so as the process seemed lengthy and invasive.
The five minute walk to the GP’s office had already exhausted me, mentally and physically. On my mother’s request I visited the Doctor several more times, and was seen by a different doctor each time, explaining myself over and over again. On my third visit I was given a prescription for 20mg of the antidepressant Citalopram, after being asked by the doctor ‘what exactly I had in mind’ when I mentioned I’d heard that medication could help me.
Whilst medication did help me get out of some rough patches, I wish that I had been told during my first consultation that mental health issues don’t improve from taking medication alone. It is an ongoing process, one which involves lots of self-discipline, support from those around you and most of all an understanding of your own triggers and unpicking your inner issues. It’s an ongoing process and one which is almost always made easier by having some communal support.
It is my belief that mental health issues are societal issues, and battles with mental illnesses are often lost when fought alone. In 2018, the BBC reported that the amount of young people being prescribed anti-depressants had risen by 15%, stating that: “In total, there were 950,000 prescriptions issued between April 2015 and March 2018” (Oliver Newlan, 2018).
The report goes on to state that “Experts have linked the rise to waits for specialist mental health services” (Newlan, 2018). Many of these services don’t involve an aspect of community involvement.
I went to the GPs office because it appeared at that time that there was nowhere else to turn. There was no obvious port of call. No immediate safe zone in which to discuss my flailing state of mind with another person who understood. Seemingly there was no accessible community of people discussing their battles with mental illness. Imagine if the men and women running our country were vocal about their own mental health, considering mental health is something each and every one of us has.
Imagine if there were community mental health centres in every borough, in every city. Imagine if Boris Johnson, the UK’s current Prime Minister, were as passionate about mental health as he has been about military intervention in Iraq, the hunting ban and lower taxes for higher earners. Perhaps if there were more government funded community support centres for mental health, we wouldn’t all be attempting to heal our inner issues with consumerist spending.
For me, Self Care is as much about prioritising looking after myself as it is about connecting with others around me. I, like many others begin to falter when I feel isolated. We desperately need to support one another and become more aware of the importance of community in dealing with our personal issues. Whilst social media is an important and effective platform to communicate and share ideas, it can also be a place where we hide. In order to smash the stigma surrounding mental health we could start by being more honest online about our struggles, having real conversations with one another and checking in when we log-in.
