In the last few months, I've come across quite the handful of Odyssey articles arguing against self-diagnosing mental illnesses. Before I get into my stance on this subject, allow me to give you a little background:
I first started seeking mental health care in the spring of 2016. It has been a long, tumultuous, and winding road, but I have finally reached the point where I have a therapist I see regularly, a medication that mildly reduces some of my symptoms, and a clinical diagnosis of major depressive disorder and social anxiety.
I am in an incredibly privileged position where I am able to safely and quickly seek out and receive adequate treatment for my mental health. I am also in a position where I know and have seen first hand that this is rarely the case for others struggling with mental illness.
Unlike me, some people don't have a support system they can go to for help. People who are told by their friends and family that "it's just a phase," "cheer up," or that their symptoms aren't even valid or real, that they're "acting crazy."
Unlike me, some people don't have sufficient insurance coverage for mental health treatment. Even with a good insurance plan, the cost of therapists, psychiatrists, medication, inpatient care, and other specialized needs can reach thousands of dollars per month.
When your advice to someone battling symptoms of mental illness is to *just* get professional help, you are dismissing the miles of obstacles and systems set up to fail them that they have to go through to receive that help. Not even just the accessibility obstacles, but the most difficult battles of finding the courage and feeling safe enough to ask for help in the first place. And let me tell you, until you've been in that place, you'll have no fucking idea how hard that is.
If you haven't gotten the picture yet, I fully support self-diagnosis. I don't mean I support Googling your symptoms, picking out the first illness it tells you and taking it upon yourself to treat yourself the way the way WebMD advises for a person with said illness. That is not what self-diagnosis means to the community of people who do it.
Self-diagnosis is knowing your brain. It's recognizing that something isn't right, taking every resource at your disposal, and trying to find a way to combat symptoms safely and efficiently until there comes a time when professional treatment is a viable option.
It doesn't take a genius to know you're depressed. I've struggled with depression for years – the fact that I wasn't professionally diagnosed until last fall doesn't change that. I went into my psych evaluation knowing that I had depressive and anxious tendencies. What was my diagnosis? Depression and anxiety. Go figure.
I don't mean to downplay the effectiveness and purpose of mental health professionals. It is the greatest relief in the world to have a medical professional give a name to the thing you're feeling and reassure you that you aren't losing your mind. But that relief and the luxury of being given a plan for what to do next comes from privilege.
People against self-diagnosis don't see that. They don't see just how classist and ignorant it is to tell someone who doesn't have the means for professional help that they're wrong for trying to figure out what's going on with their brain.
What's worse is that the people most vocally against self-diagnosis are people within the mentally ill community. They are the ones shaming people with undiagnosed mental illnesses because they believe that symptoms aren't valid unless a psychiatrist confirms them on paper. It's become a game of entitlement that makes people who have had the luxury of receiving professional treatment think that they're illness is more valid than those who have not had that privilege.
Essentially, it's become a case of the "indie band fan."
You know, how there's always that person who was a fan of a band before they became mainstream, and then every time they hear someone else claim to be a fan they ask: "Oh, you like Radiohead? Name five of their songs."
There's a difference between someone with undiagnosed depressive symptoms saying they're depressed and someone who's upset over a breakup saying they're depressed. One statement is valid and the other is ableist.
People who support self-diagnosis are only seeking to affirm and treat their symptoms within their means, not to diminish the severity of the symptoms people with diagnosed mental illnesses experience. They are experiencing those symptoms too, and not having access to professional help shouldn't be something that's used against them. We should instead help them in every way we can.
My depressive and anxious symptoms were just as valid before getting professional help as they are now. All professional diagnoses begin with self-diagnosis; we realize that something's wrong and we try to figure out what it is and how to deal with it.
Now more than ever, there are numerous resources readily available to help those who can't access professional help. There are self-assessments, online therapists and support groups, apps to keep track of behaviors... the list goes on. Self-diagnosis saves lives and is an incredibly proactive way to begin the process of treating mental illness.
No one knows your brain better than you, and that is the fundamental basis of self-diagnosis – not faking an illness, not purposely misdiagnosing themselves, not doing it for attention. It's simply seeking to find answers and cope with symptoms when professional mental health care is not affordable, accessible, encouraged, or reliable.