As we close the sixth week of our time here at Andrews University, it is perhaps safe to say that more than a few of us are beginning to experience a slight decline in the state of our mental health. With so much going on, it is sometimes inevitable. Often, I try to counter that by journaling, talking with friends, and convincing myself that I am allowed to take a break. And sometimes, I find myself on the therapy side of Instagram.
Instagram wellness posts have rapidly been on the rise since the beginning of the pandemic. Often manifested in the form of pastel backgrounds with calming flower doodles and affirming funky fonts, these posts are filled with tips and advice addressing self-discovery and mental health. These therapy posts mostly target young people (the main generation on Instagram) and usually address mental health, trauma and stress, and interpersonal relationships. I have seen posts on how to: recognize gaslighting, set boundaries, forgive yourself, differentiate between kindness and people-pleasing, support friends during hard times, and identify anxiety triggers.
Most of these posts serve to comfort and validate, or encourage the viewer to think about oneself or one’s relationships on a deeper level. Some posts have even helped me become a better communicator, bringing up questions that push me to evaluate my emotions and situations more thoroughly. Psychiatrists and mental health experts are able to reach people where they’re at, and already, these posts are helping to normalize therapy and mental health check-ins.
Over the years, however, this phenomenon has come under fire for the fact that Instagram therapy is not actual therapy. This is true–any form of social media should never be used in place of real therapy. ‘Instagram therapy’ is meant for the general public–therefore it lacks much of the personalization and nuance that comes with actual therapy. The advice offered for dealing with depression, navigating relationship rough patches, or dealing with trauma is very broad, and it is most certainly not one size fits all. It cannot give people specific solutions to their unique situations. It does not serve as a professional diagnosis, even when accounts are run by mental health experts with actual credentials. And expert or not, taking any of these posts at face value can be fairly harmful in the wrong situations.
But there are also some upsides to Instagram therapy. For instance, real therapy often comes at a steep price in the U.S. – and that’s if you’re able to find an available therapist in the first place. Wait lists are long, and similar to many working in the healthcare sector since the start of Covid-19, therapists have been experiencing burnout. And many people wouldn’t be able to get access to therapy regardless–often due to the stigma surrounding therapy in one’s community. Consequently, a social media platform such as Instagram can be much more accessible for people. Information is provided in bite sized, easily digestible chunks. And it is often helpful to know that one can be part of an online community where people going through similar things can work to uplift, support, and share resources with one another. This community has been working to destigmatize the ideas surrounding therapy and mental illness as a whole.
At the end of the day, ‘Instagram therapy’ can be a useful tool, so long as it’s not used to replace real therapy. Posts can help to shrink knowledge gaps about mental and emotional health, as well as help people cope with situations in a generally healthier manner. As with all general advice, caution should be exercised. But it is not so bad to see people spreading awareness of various mental health struggles through posts that contain practical help and encourage thoughtful reflection.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.