Does Every Problem Need a Diagnosis?
Every semester, just before grades are due, my husband receives the same kind of email.
He teaches in a business school, and the messages usually come from students he's barely seen all semester. Some haven't attended class in weeks. Others haven't turned in much of the coursework. Nearly all explain that they've been struggling with their mental health and ask whether there's any way to salvage the semester.
Some of those students may be dealing with genuine mental illness. Depression, anxiety disorders, trauma, and other conditions can derail a person's ability to function. Of course, those students deserve accommodations.
But I suspect some are describing something else. They've procrastinated. They've avoided difficult conversations. They've been lonely, overwhelmed, afraid of failing, or watched one missed assignment turn into ten. That's a different story, even if it feels just as distressing.
When Did Every Struggle Become a Disorder?
As a therapist, I’m grateful for the progress we’ve made on mental health. We've become better at recognizing things that previous generations overlooked or dismissed. More people seek help, and there's far less shame in doing so.
Yet despite our focus on mental health, we consistently hear reports about worsening psychological well-being. That raises an uncomfortable question: Is it possible that our focus on mental health is changing the way we experience ordinary life?
Psychologists call part of this trend concept creep—the gradual expansion of psychological terms to include a wider range of experiences. As our awareness has grown, so have the boundaries of words like trauma, anxiety, burnout, and mental illness. Sure, that’s a good thing. Experiences that were once ignored are now taken seriously.
But when every painful emotion begins to sound like a diagnosis, we risk losing sight of the difference between normal human suffering—aka life—and mental illness.
We've also become fluent in the language of psychology. We talk about trauma responses, boundaries, emotional safety, narcissism, burnout, attachment styles, and anxiety as comfortably as earlier generations talked about stress or disappointment.
The thing is, language shapes perception. Once we learn a psychological term, we begin seeing it everywhere, including in ourselves. You may be surprised to know that nearly a third of American adults and half of Gen Z adults have given themselves a mental health diagnosis based on info from social media.
Therapy Isn't the Answer to Everything
This may be a surprising concept coming from a therapist.
We’re trained to think diagnostically when it's helpful. The danger is when the rest of the culture begins doing the same.
Many of the people I see don't primarily need treatment for a psychiatric disorder. They need close friendships. Better sleep. More exercise. Less time on their phones. A stronger sense of purpose. Honest conversations. The courage to make a difficult decision they've been avoiding.
Therapy can help people discover those things, but therapy isn't the thing itself.
That's why I hesitate when I hear people say, "Everyone should be in therapy."
What almost everyone does need is meaningful relationships, community, purpose, physical activity, and opportunities to contribute to something larger than themselves. Interestingly, these are also some of the strongest predictors of good mental health. They help people flourish whether or not they ever receive a diagnosis.
I keep thinking about those student emails because they capture a subtle cultural shift.
It no longer seems enough to say, I got overwhelmed. I made a mess of this semester. I was afraid I'd fail. Those explanations somehow feel incomplete. Increasingly, we reach for psychological language because it feels more legit, more compassionate, perhaps even more true. And sometimes it is.
But sometimes the simplest explanation is also the most accurate. We got overwhelmed. We avoided something difficult. We were scared. We made a mess of things.
Those aren't diagnoses. They're part of being human.