top of page

Mental Health Terms Aren't Trends

Nov 14, 2024
3 min read

Imagine: it’s finals week, and you’re cramming for an exam with a group of friends. Someone groans, “This is giving me a panic attack,” while another jokes about their colour-coded notes, saying, “I’m so OCD with my summaries.” These phrases are tossed around casually and humorously in everyday conversations, especially in the high-stress environment of university life. Although this may seem harmless in the moment and reflects society’s growing awareness of mental health, it also evidences a troubling trend: mental health buzzwords are being used without a real understanding of their clinical meaning, reducing complex experiences to quirky labels or social media tags. The overuse and misuse of clinical terms may be doing more harm than good, trivialising genuine mental health issues, and distorting public perceptions of them. 


When words like ‘anxiety’, ‘trauma’, and ‘panic attack’ are used casually, their impact is diminished. Anxiety, for instance, is often used to describe feelings of worry or nervousness, but clinically diagnosed anxiety disorders involve persistent, overwhelming, and often debilitating physiological symptoms, such as rapid heart rate, sweating, and shaking. Similarly, having a panic attack doesn’t simply refer to any prolonged feeling of unease — it is quite literally characterised by an unshakeable sense of impending doom, danger, or death. The term trauma is likewise frequently misused to describe any difficult or unpleasant experience. Clinical trauma, however, involves enduring distress caused by events that threaten life, safety, or bodily integrity, often leading to post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Using trauma to describe a bad grade or a disappointing night out not only dilutes its true meaning but also risks minimising the lived experiences of individuals with PTSD who face significant daily struggles.


The misapplication of clinical terms may also result in a lack of empathy for those who genuinely experience these conditions. Someone who describes themselves as “a little OCD” because they prefer a tidy room may inadvertently downplay the often overwhelming challenges faced by individuals with actual OCD, who may spend hours each day battling intrusive thoughts and compulsions. For those with autism, the casual usage of ‘autistic’ to describe social awkwardness or eccentricity may feel dismissive and hurtful, reducing their unique neurological experience to a mere personality trait. By casually applying these terms to personal quirks or preferences, we perpetuate the dismissive idea that “we are all a bit OCD/autistic/ADHD.”


The misuse of mental health terms can also encourage people to self-diagnose based on misinformation. This is particularly prevalent online, where social media algorithms often amplify content that sensationalises mental health issues, sometimes presenting symptoms in a way that invites people to diagnose themselves. While self-diagnosis — when based on proper research — can be useful and validating to those who face barriers in access to proper assessment, it can also lead to improper coping mechanisms or even exacerbation of symptoms if not done carefully. Mental health professionals spend years studying how to diagnose and treat these conditions precisely because of their complexity, and self-diagnosing based on misrepresented symptoms can prevent people from getting the right help.


Language that trivialises mental health struggles can make it harder for individuals with diagnosed conditions to speak openly, fearing that they won’t be taken seriously or that their experience will be downplayed. As we strive to create a more supportive environment for discussing mental health, we must be intentional about the language we choose. Instead of co-opting medical terms as descriptors for personal habits, preferences, or everyday stress, we should find more precise, non-clinical words. Saying, “I feel nervous” instead of “I have anxiety,” or “I like things to be organised” instead of “I’m so OCD” can help us respect the weight of these terms. We should also encourage people to seek accurate information from mental health professionals and verified resources rather than relying solely on social media for mental health insights. Ultimately, our growing awareness of mental health issues is positive, but we must guard against reducing serious diagnoses to trendy buzzwords.



Illustration by Liza Vasilyeva

10 Comments


1 wix
Oct 11

ai font generator makes such an important point, especially the bit about "colour-coded notes" being tossed around as "so OCD." It really does water down what those diagnoses actually mean for people living with them, and I catch myself doing it too without thinking.

Like

This article offers an important perspective on understanding mental health terms and treating people’s experiences with respect. I appreciate how it encourages thoughtful conversations rather than following trends. It’s a meaningful reminder that self-expression, whether through words or an ichigo costume, should reflect individuality and confidence.

Like

Joey
Sep 08

planorial.com makes a great point about how casual this language has become. That example of someone joking about their color-coded notes really highlights how easily we reduce serious conditions to a quirky personality trait. It's a good reminder to think about the weight of the words we use daily.

Like

Joey
Sep 06

photo colorizer is a great resource for understanding this, as the article points out how casually we toss around terms like 'panic attack' or 'OCD' during stressful times like finals week. It’s a good reminder that using these labels without their clinical meaning can really trivialize the serious experiences they describe.

Like

planliva really highlights how common phrases like "I'm so OCD" in university settings can unintentionally trivialize serious conditions. It's a good reminder that awareness needs to be paired with understanding, not just casual use.

Like
bottom of page