“There’s nothing wrong with me!”

In 1973, homosexuality was officially declassified as a mental disorder by the American Psychiatric Association, and is not considered to be such in subsequent iterations of the DSM. This, on its surface, sounds like a huge step towards equality— and don’t get me wrong, it is. But expanding “mentally healthy” to include LGBTQ people isn’t enough, and we need to do something about it.

I’m Sarah, and I’m gay and non-binary. Most people in social-justice minded circles would argue on my behalf that this facet of my existence doesn't make me unhealthy, and doesn’t need to be fixed. But, I am also mentally ill. The exact attitudes that plagued the gay community when we were considered “mentally ill” for whom and how we loved, plague mentally ill people— whose existence is to this day considered wrong, taboo, and in need of correction— to this day.

For the LGBTQ community to distance itself from the mentally ill community would be a grave error. Why? First and foremost, because of the sheer number of people whose identity falls at the intersection of these two. I’m one of these people—and to identify as LGBTQ and mentally ill means to constantly be recognized as valid by one community, but marginalized by another. I frequently feel unsafe to reveal my identity in mentally ill circles, for fear of facing at worst bigotry, and at best, near-palpable awkwardness. And I fear even more discussing the way my orientation and gender inform and influence my mental illness, for fear of taking a step “backwards” in the fight for a depathologized LGBTQ identity.

I once had a deeply ingrained belief that I would never find love, because the only love I had ever known was the straight, cis love of couples around me. This fear intensified dramatically when mental illness was thrown into the mix. While LGBTQ people are rapidly gaining support in pursuing relationships, the same cannot be said for mentally ill people. Rather, mentally ill people are viewed as “inherently toxic,” backed up by the dangerous adage “You can’t love another until you love yourself.”

We as LGBTQ people expect and often receive the opportunity to speak out on issues that affect us. We expect to be heard and expect to be respected. And even on a micro-level, it is assumed by all those around me that I am an expert on my experiences as a gay and trans person— after all, I’m the one experiencing it. It is not unreasonable to expect that my narrative be controlled by me, and yet, when it comes to mental illness, we are still so frequently denied that right.

This opinion isn’t incredibly controversial in the present day: “I would trust a psychologist/psychiatrist’s assessment of a mentally ill person over the voice of the person themselves.” You are saying that you think the assessment of the person who wants to fundamentally change the thought processes of their patient to be fair, unbiased and reliable. You value “normalizing” a mentally ill person over giving them the tools they need to successfully live with their unusual brain intact.

So-called “conversion therapy” is perhaps one of the cruelest and most hated tools in the arsenal of bigots who practice psychology. It uses techniques grounded in the (somewhat-antiquated) theories of behaviorism in order to root out behaviors deemed unacceptable and ultimately replace them with behaviors deemed healthy. Conversion therapy has, especially in more recent years, been called out by human rights organizations and activists for its horrifying methods, including the administration of electric shocks as punishment. That said, those very people who recoil in horror at this type of treatment would likely be less sympathetic to another subset of the population who has been suffering from similarly abusive “therapy.”

One notable example of this is the use of Lovaas therapy, a type of strict behavioral therapy now used on Autistic children, but, before conversion therapy was largely taboo, was also used to“treat” young boys who exemplified “deviant sex-role behaviors.” Similar aversion therapy techniques to those used in conversion therapy can also be seen inpast treatments for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. So why, then, when we discuss the horrors, pitfalls, and blatant disregard for ethics used in these “treatments,” do we only talk about their usage on the LGBTQ community?

Mental illness is a social construction, it’s a label that has been fashioned to fit many so-called conditions in the past centuries that have later been rendered defunct by modern psychology. Hysteria, a catch-all term that was used as a way of institutionalizing women for various reasons, is a notable example of this. Homosexuality, as I have discussed, is another. The state of being gay does not fundamentally change between the time it was in the DSM and the present day, when it is not. What changes is the collective perception of society, and what is permitted, by society, to assimilate into the norm.

When we as LGBTQ individuals distance ourselves from the “deviant” label by throwing the mentally ill under the bus, we are not promoting acceptance. We must continue to advocate for LGBTQ rights, and find a way to do so while being inclusive of mentally ill experiences. We must place our focus— and encourage society to do the same— not on fixing the mentally ill or ostracizing them until “normalcy” is achieved, but rather supporting this community to live the most fulfilling lives they can, regardless of how normal or abnormal it may seem.

It is no one’s job to police existence; it is no one’s job to determine whose brain is acceptable and whose isn’t. Let’s fight for mentally ill / LGBTQ solidarity.