It’s Mental Health Awareness Week — What’s the Point?
It’s Mental Health Awareness Week in the UK — a week that I consider to be one of the most insufferable, hollow weeks of the year. Maybe that makes me sound bitter and cynical, but that’s because I am.
Every year, I spend seven days watching peers, influencers and corporations saturating social media with posts and pictures supporting Mental Health Awareness Week; every year, I spend 51 weeks watching those same people ignoring the topic. For those of us who suffer from a mental illness, we are aware of it every day, of every week, of every year. After a while, it becomes apparent that many — not all — of those posting this social media content are doing so because they feel obliged, or because it makes them feel good about themselves. After a while, this token week of shallow discussion and twee graphics begins to feel more than just slightly hollow.
For me, this year’s theme of kindness feels particularly empty. Awareness does not equal kindness, and I know this all too well from my own experience. My illness manifests physically in the form of my scars, something I no longer make any effort to cover — but given some of the reactions I’ve faced, it’s easy to see why many people prefer to keep their scars private. I’m used to people staring, pointing, whispering, and both my partner and many of my friends are used to being asked about them. My scars seem to make me public property; I’ve had more than a couple of incidents where drunk men in clubs have felt it acceptable to touch them without permission. I’m a walking, talking manifestation of awareness. When you look at me, you can’t help but be aware — but by no means does that equal kindness.
In theory, Mental Health Awareness Week is an opportunity to educate and to encourage universal kindness, no matter how uncomfortable or unpalatable the issue at hand may be — but it fails to do so. I am by no means the only person to notice the hypocrisy of what is preached vs what is practiced; the tragic death of Caroline Flack proves that. During Mental Health Awareness Week, society suddenly seems to be aware of not only mental health problems, but also of the importance of kindness — but where was that kindness for Caroline? For Britney? For Amy?
The fundamental issue with Mental Health Awareness Week is that it has been hijacked; regardless of its original intention, it has become an opportunity for showboating. Influencers, businesses, politicians — all are guilty of utilising mental health as an opportunity to sell their brand, their products and their policies. Take, for example, Boris Johnson; over the course of the last week, his social media posts have alternated between the COVID-19 crisis and Mental Health Awareness Week. Given that under the Conservative government the number of mental health nurses has dropped by 15%, the phrase ‘all style and no substance’ springs to mind — as long as people are seen to be supporting the cause, actions cease to matter.
Even for those of us who actively support the cause, the cause doesn’t support us. Part of the reason Mental Health Awareness Week feels so hollow is that it has nothing to back it up — no services, no resources, no funding. In the UK, our mental health services are overstretched and underfunded to such an extent that it becomes impossible for them to avoid failing people. By all means, encourage kindness — but let’s not pretend that kindness is all we need. Personally, I need to be able to access services without waiting a minimum of six months to be seen. I need to be confident that if I seek treatment, I won’t be told that the service may be denied to me because it is oversubscribed.
Kindness is all well and good, but let’s not pretend it’s a cure. For as long as Mental Health Awareness Week continues to be overshadowed by empty promises and undermined by an absence of support, it is pointless. Society could do with being a little kinder, but that won’t stop me from demanding more; we deserve more than a conversation surrounding mental illness that is, at best, halfhearted.
