Our culture of malingering has gone too far

Is it wrong that I’m missing something of the traditional British stiff upper lip at the moment? Or a touch of looking on the bright side?

It feels as though everyone and his dog feels entitled to a diagnosable mental health complaint, when, in reality we are the least traumatised generation on Earth. None of us has lived through a war (except perhaps the migrants to whom we routinely deny citizenship). Yet almost all of us takes pills for some diagnosed mental malady from anxiety to hyperactivity. Is it wrong to question whether this is wise- especially given our ground water is already awash with harmful chemicals- need we all add Prozac to the mix?

Look, I’m the first to argue that life is hard, but wasn’t it always thus, with far more child poverty and disease. Modern day Affluenza have us all in the grip of heightened awareness of the gap between rich and poor, and the self induced mania of drug and alcohol addiction as “self-medication”, but really shouldn’t we all just try to grow up a bit- to get a bit of perspective?

Yes, it is harder to grow up in a world where Mum and Dad (or rather gran and grandad) hold the majority of the wealth and would rather spend it than pass it on.

But generation rent really doesn’t have it so bad compared to those past- we weren’t a nation of homeowners until at least the 1950s, and that guilded generation are the biggest alcoholics out of the lot of us. Aren’t most modern maladies then, caused by an surplus of wealth, rather than a dearth?

Maybe it’s time to take a bit of responsibility for how we feel, never mind that we can’t help our circumstances or genes- we can all be kinder to ourselves, get enough sleep, eat well, exercise and, erm, not drop a load of coke and wonder why we feel like the world’s ending three days later, like too many of my erstwhile friends.

Having caught up with some old mates over the weekend, I was aghast at how many of them were popping pills (half the population, it seems) when really, they just needed to stop self harming behaviours- I’m sure CBT would be more effective for most people’s so called problems, but I guess it’s expensive, and the pharmaceutical giants don’t benefit so there we are.

But surely, turning up on time to meet an old friend is better than angsting about it, and then making me feel crap, sat in a pub for half hour, waiting for them to sort their shit out. I know depression makes you obsess about yourself, but being rude surely isn’t going to help how you feel.

If we’ve become a nation of naval gazing whingebags, the new obsession with talking about it surely isn’t helping. Other people’s problems are just that- some are worse than our own, some are less bad. But most of us can’t do much to help (except listen). Yet it can feel quite defeating for the listener, if it’s not acceptable to offer advice (and these days it never is); practical support is beyond most of us, and judgement isn’t kind (but it’s sort of inevitable when you feel people could self-help more than they do).

But given how infrequently we see others amidst our hectic day to day of work, telly, holidays and more work, reducing social interactions to unpaid therapy sessions really isn’t fair either. What happened to gumption, grit, determination, fearlessness, selflessness- are these really negative traits in an era that values so much self-care and self-promotion?

It’s not for nothing that for generations, the traditional answer to “how do you do?” was “how do you do?”. It’s not that I want to see a return to British inhibitedness, but I would rather like a degree of self control to be valued rather than the let it all hang out morbidity of today’s generation.

I’m the first the believe that mental health issues are caused by factors beyond our control. Hell, I don’t even believe we have any control over who we are and how we feel. But that notwithstanding, I still drag myself to the gym rather than complain about being fat, take some advice if I feel something is going wrong, get some therapy if I feel maybe, just maybe, I’m not looking at things the right way, and cut down on drinking if I’m climbing the walls with anxiety.

The worst thing you can do is complain. It drains the living fuck out of the listener, and makes every social occasion feel like a chore. Perhaps that’s why people avoid each other so much these days. Perhaps that’s why so many people avoid me- given everything we’ve been through after the last ten years.

It is difficult, and I know I’ve bent people’s ear when times have been genuinely tough. Or I’ve had a backache, or been bashing my head against a brick wall with the kids. But complaining about something going on in your own head is to complain about yourself, which is frustrating for anyone else. Depression and anxiety are real, but they are also frequently self-induced by self destructive behaviour.

I’m not a fan of masking the symptoms with drugs- not unless there’s something very much beyond your control you need short term support with. But I bear little truck with those for whom life is their biggest ongoing problem. That’s malingering, and it’s selfish. And I speak as someone who’s been suicidal in the past. Life can be made bearable with routine, sleep, exercise, and a purpose.

If anything modern life is to blame for robbing so many of us of this. But it’s only by looking outside of ourself, being kinder and more proactive and responsive to family and friends that we can hope to find one.