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As a depth-oriented psychotherapist, working from an anti-stigma lens, I have become quite interested in observing how people view themselves as the exception to the rule of mental health. From my perspective, the rule is that everyone experiences both pleasant and unpleasant thoughts and emotions that contribute to the ebb and flow of their mental health. I remind my clients as consistently as I can that their thoughts and emotions, no matter how unpleasant at times, are simply signs that they are human beings trying to navigate a complex, and often unforgiving, world. I, as a human being first, and a therapist second, am not an exception to the rule either. None of us are.
In previous posts, I have written a little bit about stigma and attempted to illustrate the message that our mental health is just as important, and not that different from, our physical health. Many of us understand this on an intellectual level, but we still cannot seem to connect with it on a personal level. I believe this is because we have created societies, systems, and structures that have taught us that we are not allowed to struggle—at least not openly. Nevertheless, as human beings, we have very little choice but to do our best to thrive and survive within these structures.
Let’s think about this from a physical health standpoint first. Generally, physical health issues tend to be more visible and familiar to the public compared to mental health issues (although, I do want to be clear that I know this is not always the case, particularly from a disability and chronic illness perspective). If we stick with this as a general distinction, however, we might think that it is no big deal for people to stay home from work because they have a fever. Or to take their time walking down the stairs because they pulled a muscle in their leg. However, in the former example, we might feel like we should push through the fever when it is happening to us. If we don’t, we could fall behind in our work, upset our colleagues, and maybe even lose out on a raise or a promotion. In the latter example, we might feel bad that the people behind us are late to lunch because we injured ourselves the other day, and we might get frustrated when our leg is not back to normal the very next day. All this, even though we would be hard pressed to find someone who hasn’t had a fever or pulled a random muscle before.
So what happens when it seems like our mental health struggles are more invisible, misunderstood, and unaccepted by everyone else as compared to physical health struggles? What happens when we feel like we are the only ones struggling with anxiety or sadness because few are comfortable talking openly about how they truly feel on a day-by-day basis? People will usually do their best to hide these struggles from others, and even try to suppress within themselves, which can contribute to an overwhelming sense of shame that makes it even more difficult for unpleasant thoughts and emotions to pass.
Take a pause and think about this some more.
The rule is that we have no choice but to struggle with our thoughts and emotions sometimes, as it is part of the human condition. Correct? But we also feel like it is not safe to reveal or be honest about these struggles to others. What an unfair, lonely, and scary experience the human condition can then become. Especially for those of us that are learning how to cope with the ebb and flow of our mental health in a way that does not interfere with our ability to function within certain structures—structures that we probably had no part in establishing, but have little choice in navigating.
How does this all lead us to what I’m referring to as the Mental Health Exception Trap? (To my knowledge, this term has not been used before.)
If we are taught to hide our mental health struggles because we think that sharing them will make things worse for us publicly, then we likely develop some empathy for others, but little compassion for ourselves. For instance, people experiencing anxiety or sadness might have an easier time giving others the benefit of the doubt, but they may still not have an outlet to be honest about their own experiences. They might think, “People are allowed to struggle, but I need to get to work” or “Sadness is a normal emotion, but I need to get over it and show up for class” or “Everyone gets anxious, but what is wrong with my brain?” We become the exception because we are pressured to be alone with our mental health struggles and left to handle the impact of them all by ourselves.
How can we get ourselves unstuck from the Mental Health Exception Trap?
We can actively listen and seek support from one another. We can share how we truly feel with the people we know and trust.
We can treat our mental health routines no differently than we treat our physical health routines. Even if that starts with normalizing the fact that we all experience mental health, therefore we should all have mental health routines.
We can challenge others to see mental health as a normal part of the human experience. We can be a part of creating systems that aren’t built on stigmatizing attitudes and practices.
We can go to therapy to learn how the stigma of mental health affects us and learn to regard our unpleasant thoughts and emotions with acceptance and self-compassion.
Most importantly, when we notice ourselves feeling like we are the exception to the rule of mental health, we can remind ourselves that we are human beings, and we can take care of ourselves while allowing those unpleasant thoughts and emotions to pass through.