Self-Diagnosing Mental Ill-Health by Evlin DuBose CW:
NON-FICTION
Mental ill-health, suicide, sexual assault, trauma, discrimination
“You ever been in a war, Councilman? In a firefight? Did you feel an over-abundance of control?” Nick Fury, The Avengers (2012) I am a habitual self-diagnoser. I’ve thought I had polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), appendicitis, diabetes, hernias, at least three different kinds of cancer, and COVID-19 galore. Still partially convinced I have OCD, a hypersensitive nervous system, and an incorrigible case of maladaptive daydreaming—the latter of which, I’ll clarify, is not currently recognised by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) or the World Health Organisation (WHO). To the hypochondriac, diagnosis is an addiction. Every time I find an explanation for any odd symptom, it hits like giddy adrenaline. A shot of dopamine coupled with the possibility of connection. Except for the poor bugger who first got COVID-19, humans are rarely harbingers of illness. Somebody somewhere has had what you have, and hey, it’s great to have something in common. After all, unnamed, formless monsters are far more frightening than Bob the Anxious Brain Gremlin. (Fuck you, Bob). Heading down the analysis rabbit-hole, as it turns out, is a coping mechanism. Both my therapist and mother, a registered nurse, have made this abundantly clear numerous times, often out of the utmost patience for
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my neurotic questioning. Nowadays, I simply need someone I trust to clarify reality so that I feel safe and in control. Is this normal? They can tell me yes, no, with qualifications. But my experience is one of relative privilege. Not everyone has health insurance, or easy access to qualified, sustained healthcare for chronic illnesses like mental ill-health. Not everyone (with good reason) trusts doctors to do right by them. And one of the many side-effects of social media, for good and bad, is the quick candour and lack of censorship given to people of all lived experiences. We’re talking about mental ill-health now more than ever. What it looks like, feels like, how to cope and how to give care. All things up, we have an environment that clues people into questioning symptoms they may not have otherwise, and drawing their own conclusions. Lack of access, lack of trust, and a wave of digital vulnerability has created a generation of self-diagnosers. Self-diagnosis isn’t inherently bad. A lot of good can come from paying attention to your body and what feels right for you. Seeing yourself in the lives of others can provide you with vocabulary, community, and clarity. People have realised they’ve been living on the autism spectrum without help, or that others like them struggle with the same obscure phobias, compulsions, and shames. Identifying with a Tumblr post about PTSD or joining a Facebook
