Okay, I said we were going to talk about this so let's do it. https://twitter.com/ChurchCarlton/status/1330358351407050754

There's something very strange about watching society suddenly realize en masse that being lonely, sad, broke, scared, and isolated is bad and people shouldn't have to live that way.

It's even stranger to watch people have this realization and still not make the connection that this is just life for mentally ill people.

Throughout the pandemic, there have been countless well-meaning warnings and suggestions about "taking care of our mental health" and "prioritizing wellness/self-care."

Mental health in a time of historic crisis is important. But the content of these messages is troubling.

In addition to the troubling content, the messages seem to be aimed at "healthy" people and people with mental illness alike.

And "healthy" people have found ways to frame these messages to justify bending public health rules and guidelines.

So, here are the issues with the current pandemic mental health discourse as I see them:

1) It implies that mental health and wellness is something that can be bought.

Gyms/retail stores/coffee shops/restaurants/salons are all being framed as "important for mental health."

Indigo is arguing that it's too important to the community to shut down. People are complaining about the lockdown because manicures/gym sessions/shopping is "self-care."

We are unable to conceive of health, wellness, and even community outside the context of consumerism.

Never mind that the economic reality for so many of us with chronic mental illness and/or disability is such that we couldn't reliably access these things before the pandemic.

And now that we're going back into lockdown, we're being told to purchase our "self-care" online. Buy a Peloton! Buy a stand mixer! Buy Grace and Stella face masks! Buy bath bombs! Buy yoga mats! Subscribe to Crave/Netflix/Disney Plus/Amazon Prime!

Which brings me to point #2:

2) Pandemic mental health discourse frames mental illness as curable through individual actions.

Sad? Lonely? Anxious? Just work out! Hydrate! Bake banana bread! And my personal favourite: practice gratitude!

And yeah, maybe these work for people whose brains work properly.

But the number of times I have been teetering on the brink of crisis and someone has told me to try mindfulness...

Mentally ill people are constantly admonished by their friends, family, and health care providers for not being immediately cured by diet, exercise, and hobbies.

All of the Yoga With Adriene videos in the world aren't going to fix my faulty pre-frontal cortex or undo past trauma. You can use these tools to *manage* mental illness but they can't replace therapy, medication, and community support.

Which brings us to #3:

3) Pandemic mental health discourse ignores the role of public policy in mental health.

This one is especially frustrating because people seem to grasp that public policies like lockdowns aren't great for their own mental health. "What do you mean I can't have people over? I'll go nuts if I can't see my friends for a month!"

And so people break the rules, or bend them, or do things that are technically legal but still obviously a terrible idea. (Hi, indoor dining!)

And this makes the pandemic drag on. And on. And on. And that means mentally ill/disabled/chronically ill people have to go even *longer* without seeing our healthcare providers in person. Seeing the people who make up our support system. Accessing community services.

And those services, by the way? They suck. Life in Ontario as a mentally ill person is a labyrinthine nightmare world of bureaucracy and apathy. There is no political will to make our lives easier and as a result, very little good public policy in place to help us.

And the abject failure of all levels of government to freeze evictions, house the homeless, protect people in long-term care, support the unemployed, and protect working mothers' social and economic gains? That impacts mental health more than closing gyms.

But no one wants to make systemic changes to combat mental illness during the pandemic, and that's partly because of point 4:

4) Pandemic mental health discourse conflates situational depression and anxiety with chronic mental illness.

Honestly, I'd be shocked if anyone *wasn't* anxious and depressed right now. The pandemic sucks. Life is miserable and uncertain and we have no idea how much longer we will have to live like this.

But, idk, if I eat a whole bag of Skittles and feel crappy afterwards, I'm not going to walk up to a diabetic and say "I know how you feel."

Because feeling crappy after eating a bag of Skittles is a temporary situation. I will eventually feel better. It is not something I will have to work to manage for my entire life.

But even before the pandemic, things like #BellLetsTalk and Thirteen Reasons Why and the social media response to certain high-profile suicides created a narrative that mental illness happens to everyone.

Suicidal ideation is like the common cold, apparently. Anyone can catch it, even normal people like you! Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about, after all. Mental illness: it's not just for crazies anymore!

And now that the pandemic means *anyone* could reasonably become depressed, taking care of your mental health is suddenly as important as eating your veggies and remembering to floss. It's always referred to as "mental health," though. Never "mental illness."

Because pandemic mental health discourse is predicated entirely on point #5:

5) Pandemic mental health discourse completely decentres the mentally ill

Why dismantle the stigma around being mentally ill when you can encourage "normal" people to "look after their mental health" instead?

Pandemic mental health messaging seems to be built on the idea that there are iron-clad, guaranteed steps for "normal" people to follow to avoid becoming like us. All of the emphasis is on prevention. As if we're a thing to be "prevented."

But no one is willing to do the work to help us live with comfort and dignity. We're just a cautionary tale. "Here's what happens when you don't practice mindfulness, kids!"

Anyway, all of this is to say that if one more person tweets about how they want Goodlife to stay open because of their mental health, I am going to hurl myself off the CN Tower.