There seems to be this thought pattern among members of older generations — GenX and up — that mental illness wasn’t a thing back in “their day”. Their logic is that because people didn’t talk about mental illness, it didn’t exist.

We know that isn’t the case. Instead of talking about their problems, in many cases they self-medicated.

Have you ever heard the song “Mother's Little Helper” by The Rolling Stones? It peaked at #8 on the Billboard Hot 100 in August 1966, and it starts like this:

“What a drag it is getting old

‘Kids are different today’

I hear ev'ry mother say

Mother needs something today to calm her down

And though she's not really ill

There's a little yellow pill

She goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper

And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day”

Spoiler alert: “mother’s little helper” is valium. 

That’s why when people call the younger generations (in this case, Millennials and Gen Z) “the therapy generation”, I get defensive. I worry that what they mean is “the weak generation”, or “the generation that needs special treatment”. 

Regardless of what they mean, that can’t be how we interpret it. 

Friends, I will throw down for your right to go to therapy. For your right to talk about mental health and mental illness. I will throw down for your right to medication and accommodations. 

The fact that we are “the therapy generation” should be celebrated. 

In order to destigmatize something, it needs to be talked about. Millennials and Gen Z are finally talking about mental health and mental illness, and the older generations hate it. 

When we talk about what is going on inside of our heads, we take control. We understand that therapy, and different types of therapy, can work for many different people in many different ways. We encourage each other to find a way that works for them. We support each other and validate each other.

An annual report from the Center for Collegiate Health at Penn State University compiled data from 147 colleges and universities, and reported that the number of students seeking mental-health help increased from 2011-2016, at five times the rate of new students starting college. Blue Cross Blue Shield reported a 47% increase in depression diagnoses among young adults in 2018. They attribute the increase to a greater number of young adults seeking help, which means that they aren’t attributing the increase to an actual increase in depression.

So first I need to say, good for us for seeking out help. 

Because of the increase in young adults seeking therapy, there has been an overhaul to the way therapy is done. Traditional therapy is still widely practiced, but there has also been an emergence of online and text-based therapy platforms. 

This is the kind of thing older generations would scoff at. “These kids can’t even get off their phones long enough to talk to their therapists; how much help can they really need?” 

This view is ableist and inconsiderate. If someone needs help immediately, online chat platforms can help them get through the day or week until they can get in to see their actual therapist. 

If someone is in crisis but phone anxiety makes it difficult to call crisis services, text or chat-based crisis help can literally be life-saving.

On top of that, people our age are busy. Many of us work on top of being full-time students. We push ourselves to the point of burnout. But when it comes to asking for time off to go to counseling, we get scared. We’re afraid of being reprimanded or of missing out on a much-needed paycheck. The ability to text a counselor is a game-changer for time-crunched Gen-Zs. 

Disclosure time: I’ve been in therapy since high school. I’m 25 years old now, almost 26. Roughly 10 years of my life, on and off, have been spent regularly seeing a therapist to help me cope with my mental illness. And in so many ways, therapy is a blessing. It can be scary, intimidating, and exhausting. It can also be rewarding, relieving, and encouraging. 

I am never going to tell anyone how best to take care of themselves; that’s not my role. But, friend, I support you. Everyone’s recovery looks different, and I encourage you to find coping mechanisms and a support network that works for you. 

The first step to destigmatizing something is to normalize that thing. So let’s talk about mental health.