Worrying too much about the words you say can shut down dialogue if you're trying to talk to someone about their mental health, or anything challenging, for that matter. However, there are a few basic types of messaging that are either likely to be helpful or likely to backfire, regardless of the specific words that you use. I'm going to approach this with a green/yellow/red-light system: clear sailing, approach with caution, or back that ass up. This post is kind of ranty, but it's more because it's fun to write that way than because there's something specific I'm ranting about.
Green light
Validate
Validation is literally the best thing since sliced bread. And no, I don't actually mean literally, and I really don't think sliced bread is all that great, but you still can't go wrong with validating.
Where you can go wrong with validating is not understanding what it means. It doesn't mean agreeing. It doesn't mean encouraging someone to follow through with some dumbass idea that they've got. It doesn't mean blowing sunshine up their ass and telling them they're perfect and wonderful.
It means acknowledging that it's okay to feel the way they feel right now. Simple as that. It's okay to not be okay. It doesn't mean encouraging them to take up residence there. It's letting them know that it's okay to be there right now, and you're not going to get all judgy on them.
Validation is a winner because it lets the person know they're not a complete fuck-up—that they're not some weird freaky alien because they feel the way they feel. Let them feel their feels. Save your judgy bits for inside-your-head voice.
Ask
Taking an interest is a good thing. Trying to understand is a good thing. Asking questions with genuine curiosity is a good thing. It's a good way to get around making assumptions, reading into things that aren't there, and heading off in the wrong direction based on what you think they said rather than what they actually said.
P.S. "Have you tried the vitamin that claims to be a magical cure?" is not asking. It's giving advice—refer to the red-light section.
Offer support
"I'm here" is good. So is "let me know if there's anything I can do." You don't need to guess or make assumptions about what they need; leave that part to them.
Don't offer specific support and then bail because you had something better to do. You'd be better off not offering in the first place.
Yellow light
Empathizing
This is a yellow light because in its purest form, empathy is a good thing. Where things can go south is if you try to relate what the other person is going through to something that you've been through that isn't the same thing at all. Empathy is not putting your context into their situation; it's about trying to understand their context. Actual empathy is good. Making assumptions about people isn't actual empathy.
"I know how you feel" is particularly loaded, because you 100% for sure don't know how they feel, since you're not inside their head. You may have felt something very similar, but unless you've got magic mind-reading powers, saying you know how someone feels can get into dangerous territory. Sharing that you've dealt with something similar can be a good thing, but it can backfire if it's only similar in your mind, and there's not actually anything similar about it at all.
Red light
Unsolicited advice-giving
If you actually know what you're talking about, as in you have the same condition or you have relevant training or experience, that moves advice-giving into yellow light territory.
If you don't have personal/professional expertise and you think that you're going to be helpful by giving advice when no one has asked you for it, you're most likely wrong. In fact, you could very well make things worse. No one cares what your aunt's neighbour took for her migraines. No one cares that you think going for a walk is the answer to all life's ills (kind of like I think Windex is the only cleaner anyone needs). No one cares what you saw on an episode of Dr. Oz.
Why is advice a bad thing? For one, if you don't actually know what you're talking about, your advice could sucks and not be even remotely useful. Likely, it also minimizes. You don't tell someone who's getting ready to head to the hospital because they can't breathe to sniff some eucalyptus oil. Eucalyptus is lovely if you've got a cold, but a waste of time if you're about to die of COVID. There's a time and a place, and chances are, your advice is not suitable for this time or this place. The pull to give it can be strong, but that doesn't make it a good thing. Resist the pull if you can!
Normalizing (aka minimizing)
If you also have a mental illness, this isn't red-light territory at all. But for non-mentally ill folks to tell someone that what they feel is normal because everyone feels depressed after a break-up they felt really anxious before an important test.
Why is normalizing bad? Mostly because it minimizes. You don't tell someone who's in ICU hooked up to a ventilator because they've got COVID that it's normal to feel short of breath sometimes, kind of like you felt short of breath walking up the steps to the third floor of the hospital where the ICU is. They would be inclined to tell you to fuck off, except they can't, because they're on a ventilator.
Minimizing
"It's not that bad" — if you're ever inclined to say that to anyone when they're not feeling well, just don't. "Everything will be okay" or "it'll get better" is not appropriate in situations where there's no indication that things will be okay, such as if a person has terminal cancer. What's so bad about that kind of minimizing?
Well, in the case of "it's not that bad," it's all kinds of invalidating. You could say to someone whose child just died that it's not that bad because they didn't also lose their partner and their other child, but that doesn't make it appropriate or acceptable in any way, shape, or form. "It's not that bad" is like saying "you're not allowed to feel bad," or "you're just over-reacting, and you need to suck it up." And if it seems like that's just being positive, refer to the next point about toxic positivity.
In the case of saying everything will be okay when it won't, it sends the message that you care more about your own rainbows and unicorns than you do about actually listening to what they're telling you about their situation. Or, in the case of terminal cancer, it sends the message that you've got your head shoved sufficiently far up your ass that you can't connect the dots that having terminal cancer means that things won't be okay, full stop, unless dying is your definition of okay.
Toxic positivity
People don't have to be positive, even if you want them to be. Humans have a whole wide range of emotions; that's normal, and it's okay. Bubbling over with positive emotions when things are shitty makes no sense. Sure, you can always identify something positive and something to be grateful for, but that's not a magic wand that makes the shitty things go away.
Let the person feel how they feel. If you feel the need to be all positive, go do it somewhere else. Don't harass the poor person who's feeling shitty just because you're not prepared to tolerate their feelings.
So, to summarize, if you're talking about mental health stuff with someone who's having a hard time, do validate, and do ask questions. Don't give dumb advice, don't minimize their shitty situation, and don't try to foist your toxic positivity on them. The exact words you choose matter a whole let less than the overall message you're sending.
Does anyone have any green, yellow, or red-light tactics to add for talking to someone about their mental health?
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