Jan 21, 2021
Social Media Spaces for Black Sadness, Pain & Mental Health Crises
This evening, I was scrolling through TikTok (which I rarely do because I don’t know how to use it) and came across a string of videos created by psych ward nurses. Feeling some appreciation for the comedic approach they used to share their experiences with patients, I became curious about the existing mental health content on TikTok. I searched hashtags of mental health disorders and diagnoses I’m familiar with to digitally meet content creators who are raising awareness about various mental health related experiences ranging from common symptoms to the experience of being transported to behavioral health facilities. Initially, I felt intrigued and in agreement with the honest details shared by each creator. Yet, after about 10 minutes or so, my curiosity narrowed into a search for a specific type of creator and a specific type of mental health experience.
Not only are there thousands of TikTok videos related to mental health, but thousands of TikTok videos live within the hashtags of specific, individual mental health diagnoses. Of those thousands of videos, after about 30 total minutes of viewing, I saw content created by 3 Black creators and 1 Latino creator. While it’s refreshing to see young adults and teenagers openly discussing their diagnoses and overall experiences with mental health treatment, the lack of visibility of Black people discussing experiences mental health challenges was striking.
TikTok is not the only social media platform to minimize and invisibilize Black people with mental health related diagnoses and/or disorders. Instagram accounts related to mental health challenges that have impressive followings are mostly owned by white people. Instagram posts receiving the most promotion with hashtags related to depression, self-harm and other common mental health characteristics are dominantly from pages owned by white people. While the number of Black owned wellness, healing and therapy centered content creators are growing on these platforms, it is rare to see Black people on Instagram or TikTok focused solely on mental health crises. This is not because Black people are not talking about mental health struggles on these platforms. This lack of visibility is due to these platforms prioritizing and glamorizing the mental health crises and challenges of white people over those belonging to Black people.
It is not uncommon to see images and art online of white people or white skin that has endured clear harms of a mental crisis. It is not uncommon to see images with quotes related to depression and self loathing as an overlay design to a white face or body in the background. Nor is it uncommon to see that most of the white faces behind these #depression and #suicideawareness hashtags are young. But what of sadness and Black people online? Outside of collective traumatic moments, how much online space is given to Black folks to express and demonstrate a sadness that requires professional treatment? Outside of collective traumatic moments, how much literal space is given to Black folks in real life to name and demonstrate sadness that requires professional treatment? How are these two spaces related to each other?
Outside of obvious tragedies, what of Black folks and depression? What of Black folks and feelings of emptiness and numbness? What of Black folks and disassociation? What of Black folks and self harm techniques (several of which are not the same techniques traditionally used and taught by white folks)? What of Black folks and suicide ideation? What of Black folks and nervous breakdowns? What of Black folks and trips to the behavioral facility? Reflecting on the numerous young white faces behind current mental health related posts and accounts, what about depression and young Black adults and teens? Where is our online [and literal] space to name these experiences?
It’s odd to watch the growth of Black wellness and healing online spaces without a parallel growth of Black grief and pain spaces. Exactly what are we healing from? This expectation for Black folks, especially Black women, to show up for self-care, healing, wellness, breathing, pleasure, luxury spaces without adequate space for pain, grief and anguish expression is not only unrealistic, but inhumane as well. The constant images and videos online of Black folks teaching, dancing, singing, laughing, breathing, providing spiritual and ancient wisdom without equally consistent images of Black folks articulating grief, despair and disconnection is what contributes to the false belief that we are painless or capable of absorbing much pain without treatment.
If a “grief and pain” online space seems odd or unlikely, it is not. As of today, the hashtag #depressed has over 13 million posts on Instagram. The hashtag #depressionawareness on Instagram has over 700,000 posts. On TikTok, videos about specific mental health disorders have millions of views. Yet, most accounts on both platforms are owned by white people. Is it that Black folks aren’t grieving or feeling pain? If not, is it that Black folks aren’t doing so online? No.
Social media platforms are quick to viralize the comedic and entertaining nature of Black culture {while allowing white content creators to build their careers and massive profits off of appropriating those moments}.This is because these platforms intentionally give Black folks more visibility to express our joy, entertainment and wellness over our our sadness and pain. After all, if the impact of collective and individual oppression and targeting of Black folks isn’t painful…isn’t sad…doesn’t cause despair…If we can dance and sing through it...why should it stop?
