Imagine breaking your leg and having someone say, “Oh, I totally get it, I stubbed my toe once.” Or even worse, telling you not to go to the hospital because it is “quirky” or “not that serious.” Vulnerability is not weakness, and certainly shouldn’t be treated as such.
That’s exactly what happens when people casually misuse mental health terms. Saying “I’m sooo bipolar” because you changed your mind or “I’m totally OCD” because you like things tidy isn’t just inaccurate—it’s dismissive.
Mental health conditions are real and often debilitating. Yet, in everyday conversations, their names are thrown around like casual slang, stripping them of their weight and meaning. When someone says they’re “depressed” after a bad day, it makes real clinical depression seem like nothing but a passing mood. However, for those who actually struggle, depression is so much more than just feeling sad—it’s a battle, sometimes lifelong – that is both mentally and physically draining.
Then there’s autism, a condition often misunderstood and stigmatized. When people casually use “autistic” as an insult, they contribute to the idea that autism is something negative, rather than a unique way of experiencing the world. This kind of language reinforces harmful stereotypes and makes it even harder for autistic people to be accepted for who they are.
If autism is reduced to a mere joke or an insult, people with autism may face more significant exclusion, less understanding, and fewer opportunities for acceptance. Worse yet, when the actual struggles of autism are dismissed, it creates a paradox where some people face increased stigma or their struggles are deemed too insignificant for them to warrant help. The two are interconnected—by making these conditions seem like nothing, we discourage open conversation, push people further into isolation, and make it less likely that they receive the support they truly need.
These stereotypes are blown up by society in many ways – for example, the word r*****d was once a simple medical term used for special needs kids; it had no derogatory intent. Now, it can’t even be published without a redaction because of the twisted ways it was used. We see similar things now happening with the term SpEd now, and these changes must be addressed in some way.
If society treats mental health struggles as mere quirks or personality traits, people suffering may believe their experiences are not valid enough for professional help. They probably think, “Everyone says they have anxiety— mine can’t be that bad,” or “If people joke about being OCD, then maybe my compulsions aren’t serious enough for treatment.” This normalization of language downplays the severity of real conditions, making those who need help feel ashamed or unworthy of seeking it.
Our words matter. Mental health struggles are real. Let’s stop treating their terminology like a joke. It’s time to show respect, educate ourselves, and be mindful of how our words affect others.