In the following article, Michaleen Lovett, a writer for Teens in Print—a writing program empowering Boston students—sheds light on the increasing amount of mentally unstable teens, analyzing social media as the source.
TikTok is back at it again. Right there on your screen, a boy draped in all manner of black eyeliner, stripes, and chains, has moseyed his way onto your daily feed. You quickly check the tags of the post, just to be certain that what you’re looking at is…well, what you’re looking at. Sure enough…this TikTok user is exactly who you had suspected: the one, the only, the pillar of hope and virtual communities everywhere…the e-boy. As this one finishes off his regurgitation of the latest dance moves — of which you could not care less about — he flashes the camera a smile and congratulates you for making it to see another day. You blink, and wonder why that otherwise charming message has to be said so…unsettlingly sultry. But it hardly matters; you’re swiping to the next TikTok faster than his face can reappear.
This e-boy, much like many staples of TikTok, is a textbook example of how mental illness is discussed, and articulated, through the realm of social media. In the chance you are somehow unaware, accept my apology for enlightening you: the e-boy, or, “electronic boy,” is something of a rehash of the earlier 90’s-2000’s emo movement. Contradicting the backlash and shame that that era has received, however, our modern-age e-boys are more often than not spoken of as a pinnacle of non-toxic masculinity, and the building block of mental health awareness. Known for their gloomy appearances, and mouthing along to equally-morose-equally-obnoxious songs, this has somehow accredited them with “opening the discussion of mental health in a safe, vulnerable environment.”
But the truth here is that e-boys are simply a corner piece of the puzzle. What does this mean? The way in which we have taken to discussing, or even simply representing mental illness on social media, has ensured far more harm than good. More often than not, users do not make mention of this concern for the sake of spreading awareness or providing an audience that searches for such a connection. Rather, the discussion of mental illness has become a mockery: when this issue is put under the spotlight, it is done more so for the sake of creating traction. The more views, the better. The more comments, the better. The more shares, the better. But what does this truly mean? What more does this realm of social media provide us, if not simply a cycle of arbitrary, non-substantial conversations? Mental illness, so far as it has come to be understood through the media, is more a subject to be urged and publicized than a serious issue to properly address.
Let’s take that e-boy, for example. They are vague representations of those who struggle with depression, or anxiety. And yet, rather than delve into the effects this has on them, rather than explicitly articulating whether this is the case at all, their concern is little more than this: whatever it takes to be the convenient, consumable form of aesthetically pleasing skater boys. Perhaps it sounds a bit harsh — but it’s no less true. When we come across them on our socials, we are not considering the severity of such issues. We are not debunking the misconception that mental illness is inconsequential, or something meant for a roll of the eyes. We are not seeing or thinking anything. We are, instead, perceiving mental illness through the lens of social media, one that is more “acceptable” — one that values charisma, even upper-body dancing, over the substance of gritty truth.
It is teens, unfortunately, that feed into this falsehood the most. It is teens, also, who face the greatest fallout from it. They are at that impressionable age, a time in their lives that is dictated by the dominating social media platforms, the unspoken expectations that they conform to, all of which are placed on them through their usage of social media. The misconstruction of mental illness feeds the agenda of those who perpetuate it — be that for attention or simply their own ignorance — but it also feeds those who are forced to swallow its messages. Call it the bandwagon, if you will. Call it a consequence of the digital age. Whatever is decided, the romanticism of mental illness remains the same: an intentional warping of one’s struggles, and how those beyond perceive them. Those e-boys are hardly half the battle. One must also contend with users that insist mental illness is what makes them cool, trendy, or simply, them; with POV’s that glorify the adjacent lifestyles, encouraging manic episodes, or insisting one must own shelves of medications to be truly fulfilled. The discussion of mental illness, left to the throes of social media, only hinders the growth and well-being of the teens who are left to wade through its misinformation and misrepresentation.
Social media has taken from itself the potential to be a valuable, trustworthy source of inspiration and interpersonal connection — rotting instead, with misrepresentations. This mimic of a mental health movement is what becomes fact. Viewers, no matter the media’s message or platform, are forced to bear witness to an issue that is glamorized, popularized, and made into something entirely of which it is not. Mental health is not all Prozac subscriptions or gloomy Spotify playlists on shuffle. And for all that social media has tried to convince us otherwise, there is more to be had from this conversation. It’s time we shed light on the reality of mental illness, the positives and negatives, the causes and solutions, and start a new conversation, one that is open, honest, and has no stripes or electric-pop tunes in sight.
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