It’s finals season. Like a row of dominoes, finals cause extreme stress, which in turn causes the sudden toppling of an entire student body’s mental health. It’s difficult to even walk across campus without hearing exchanges like, “my third all-nighter this week,” “Yep, I got it in on time, but it sucked,” “literally cannot stop crying,” and “are palpitations normal after six energy drinks?” Lightening conversations about mental wellness with jokes or by brushing off extreme behavior tends to ease the discomfort of everyone involved. After all, feeling stressed during finals is expected. It may even bond us together, like boot camp or running a marathon. There’s something special about struggling together and being honest about it. However, I don’t think that our lighthearted conversations about extreme stress normalize the behavior as much as we’d like. When we only use surface-level conversations to address the strain of poor mental health, we fail to leave space for the depth and consideration that these feelings deserve.

Our society has certainly come a long way in talking about mental health. The feelings we joke about today were once deeply hidden, especially by women, because if revealed, these feelings could be used against you — even have you sent to an asylum. Our generation is also examining the “man-up” culture around men’s mental health more closely and is rightfully unsatisfied. I acknowledge that the fact that we can comfortably express our feelings of depression and anxiety and even talk about clinical diagnoses in everyday conversation represents major progress. It seems to me, however, that the laid-back way we often acknowledge the burden of poor mental health, especially during a temporary situation like final exams, disregards the true depth of our feelings and can even camouflage a more serious issue.

When it is only acceptable to express depression or anxiety as a joke, we may miss out on giving or receiving empathy and validation. For example, it isn’t fair that somebody should have to joke about feeling overstimulated or overwhelmed. Social convention dictates that we should navigate interactions carefully by making as few people uncomfortable as possible. Talking truthfully about emotional struggles exposes vulnerabilities for the speaker and the listener, and joking about our failure to maintain good mental health can be the easiest way to make connections in short conversations. Note that I’m certainly not pushing for a total trauma dump every time we interact with a new person. That would be exhausting for everybody involved; however, there are consequences if surface level conversation becomes the only acceptable way to share mental health struggles. When we don’t allow serious expressions of mental illness, we may miss out on the helping hand that we truly desire or could provide to someone else.

Also, some mental health topics cannot be comfortably communicated through lighthearted conversation at all. Our society today still identifies some symptoms of depression and anxiety as more acceptable than others. Struggles with hygiene remain taboo, for example, even though they are a fairly common symptom of depression. Our conversation around mental health needs to make room to discuss all symptoms. Even when more frowned-upon symptoms come up in day-to-day conversation, they may not carry the weight that they should. For example, when poor productivity is a byproduct of poor mental health, society tends to view it as an excuse for failure or a synonym for laziness. Without thoughtful discussion, this outlook will not change. In fact, lighthearted conversation around topics like depression and anxiety may be contributing to a broader, more flippant attitude. When we fail to address the severity of mental illness, we take away opportunities for more serious discussions, and these exclusions could be harmful to those truly reaching out for help.

I understand that mental health is difficult to treat and discuss because it is unique to every individual. The things that help me might do nothing for you, but I want to remind you that it is okay if the current culture of “share and move on” isn’t helping you. I encourage you to look around and ask if there is a place where you feel comfortable sitting in the discomfort of your emotions and talking about them. It isn’t easy to confront your darkest feelings, but perhaps it is necessary. As the last week of classes swiftly passes, I invite you to care for yourself and those around you. The student body brings this campus to life and defines the culture on this campus. Please recognize the power of your well-being and take steps to preserve it.