Many people without the disposable income to throw at someone with a master’s degree and Wayfair furniture have found themselves part of the audience of an emerging subcategory of influencer: well-intentioned, wholly unqualified online personalities who package therapy speak into free minute-long vignettes.
Welcome to the weird world of “trickle-down therapy.” Hope it makes you feel better.
It’s undeniable that our collective mental well-being has suffered a decline since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic.
A Lancet 2021 study found that the number of anxiety and depressive disorders grew across the globe as a result. The number of people who reported depressive symptoms grew from 193 million to 246 million — a 28% increase. Similarly, the number of people who reported anxiety disorders grew from about 298 million to 374 million — a 25% increase.
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data surrounding youth mental health paints an even bleaker picture. Of 7,705 teens surveyed in 2021, 44% reported they had experienced “persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness.” Almost 9% had attempted suicide and almost 20% had considered ending their life.
Earlier this year, Rep. Seth Moulton (D-MA-6) sponsored a bipartisan resolution declaring “a mental health crisis among youth in the United States, and expressing the pressing need for historic investments in mental health care for students.”
United States Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy released an advisory in May claiming that social media might be to blame. The advisory stated that 95% of young people ages 13-17 use social media and more than a third use it “almost constantly.”
Last week, we heard from Item Opinion editor Alyssa Cantwell on whether she considers social media a friend or foe. Trickle-down therapy is now part of that love-hate relationship many have with social media.
Trickle-down therapy: its name is kind of a meme, a play on former President Ronald Reagan’s “trickle-down economics,” which for the record, famously did not work.
The Instagram account @trickledowntherapy has gained over 1,000 followers by posting about serious issues such as body image, derealization, and trauma. Its bio reads “I go to therapy so you don’t have to.”
We’ve come a long way from reposting “live, laugh, love” and other cheesy inspirational quotes. The mental health advice on our timelines now is far more self-serious and presents itself with medical authority.
Most everyone posting therapy content is not licensed and lacks the formal education to do so. Users are often taking advice from people privileged to have their own therapist, who then try their best to translate guidance given to them individually to a broader audience with a wide array of problems.
It’s difficult to determine who is a mental health advocate genuinely trying to help others and who is trying to sell holistic gummy vitamins that promise to magically make anxiety go away.
I follow Dr. Julie Smith (@drjulie), who shares her tips surrounding burnout on Instagram, and Dr. Melissa Shepard (@doctorshepard_md), who shares her advice surrounding youth depression on TikTok.
Therapy is expensive, counselors are in short supply, and trickle-down systems aren’t effective. There is no true replacement for one-on-one in-person mental health care, but if you’re looking for mental health advice online, at least source it from a professional.
Rachel Barber is the Item’s news editor. Her column appears every other week.
