The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) reports that LGBTQ+ people are three times as likely as our straight and cis counterparts to live with mental illness, for reasons that may include prejudiced care providers, reluctance to seek care for fear of being discriminated against, and the aggregate effects of ongoing marginalization — sometimes referred to as “minority stress.” Linda Hsieh of Open Forest Counseling, who offers mental health services specifically for queer and trans people of color (QTPoC), describes this as “the daily onslaught of otherness and how hard it is to go out in the world.” For LGBTQ+ people, and particularly those who experience multiple forms of oppression, Hsieh notes that everyday social interactions are often fraught with apprehension. “When you leave the house, you think, how people are going to treat me, and do I want to engage with that?”
Thanks in part to awareness campaigns from organizations like NAMI, mental health stigma seems to be decreasing, and people living with mental illness are more able to discuss their struggles and share support and resources. However, these issues affect LGBTQ+ people not just in disproportionate numbers, but also in unique ways. Practicing self-care and seeking support can be more complicated for our community, either because of financial barriers (LGBTQ+ Americans are more likely to be poor) or because the resources we require are not designed with our needs in mind.
In facing a dearth of accessible, safe, and inclusive mental health support systems, many LGBTQ+ people have created our own. This has been true throughout the history of the human race, but the ubiquitous technology of the 21st century makes it easier to build resources that can be used by anyone around the world. Today, through social media, blogs, and even digital care packages, LGBTQ+ people are more effective than ever at helping each other feel less alone.
For queer and trans people who lack a supportive in-person community – and for those who don’t feel welcome in their local LGBTQ+ scene due to racism, ableism, cissexism, and so forth – technology can be a vital tool for self-care. Below are seven tips from activists and mental health professionals for nurturing your mental health online.
Let go of the idea that you have to be unplugged to be healthy. When digital strategist Amber Discko created a Kickstarter for their self-care app and community, Aloe, they were criticized for building a mental health resource that requires the use of a smartphone. “People were saying, aren’t we supposed to get off our phones?” But Discko thinks it’s unrealistic to expect that anyone in 2017 will eschew technology, even for the sake of their mental health. “Phones are so integral to our lives,” they say, “so why shouldn’t we be developing ways to use that technology to help ourselves?”
Find support in LGBTQ+ communities that welcome you in your entirety, beyond your gender and/or sexuality. While there might not be a robust community of people with similar identities in your hometown, odds are, you can find community online. Dom Chatterjee, founder of QTPoC Mental Health, says, “I didn’t know other queer and trans South Asians until my late 20s.” It was through social media that they first began to build these much-needed relationships. Chatterjee asserts that their online community of queer and trans people of color has “saved my life by showing me that I'm not alone even when I'm dangerously isolated.”
Protect your privacy. The ability to shed legal identifiers and reinvent personas has often been considered a danger of online interaction, but for some LGBTQ+ people, it’s lifesaving. After releasing her memoir Uncovered, on leaving Hasidic Judaism and coming out as a lesbian, author Leah Lax found out that the book had “sparked two secret Facebook groups of gay people in ultra-orthodox and Hasidic communities.” Lax adds that many people in these groups and beyond took comfort in the realization that they weren’t alone. “Plenty came out in the group for the first time. Most had never met another person like them.” Lax credits the secret groups with saving more than one person from suicide.
Remember that your online relationships can be just as important as your offline relationships. Spending time with loved ones in person can be wonderful, but it can also present challenges for those of us who live with mental illness. For Chatterjee, although anxiety is often a barrier to showing up in person, “online resources give me more space to practice being my full self, and more community who relates to the avoidance and anxiety I live with.” Don’t second-guess the importance of a support system just because it’s not physical.
Check in with yourself about how your online interaction impacts your energy, your health, and your life. What makes you feel drained and what leaves you refreshed? Chatterjee says that, in their experience, expending too much energy on taking care of others can result in “being resentful towards my own needs and the needs of QTPoC community, which is not a good place for healing or co-creating change.” While educating ourselves and raising awareness is important, Hsieh adds that spending too much time reading about people who are suffering can lead to vicarious trauma. “You need to read happy things too,” she says. Hsieh is a member of a QTPoC Facebook group where members post selfies and “love on each other,” building positive relationships and nourishing self-esteem.
Find people who are creating the things you need, and see what else they’re sharing. Lowering the barriers for marginalized people to share their writing and art, and for those who are struggling to find it, is one of the greatest accomplishments of the digital age. “When the real world hasn't been there when I was crying for help, friends on the internet were, as well as strangers writing articles that I could relate to,” says Chatterjee. Kristin Russo, CEO of Everyone Is Gay, says that following queer writers and artists on social media is an easy and effective way to find other creators and organizations that can help you. Russo advises, “connect to the individuals who can connect you to that larger community.”
Use technology to bridge the gap between what you have and what you need. Discko acknowledges that Aloe won’t replace a knowledgeable and caring therapist, but says that “some of us are just struggling so much that we need to get a little bit better before we can even really get help.” Online resources like MyTransHealth and the National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color Network can help take some of the legwork out of finding care closer to home. Work your network, too — Discko found their psychiatrist through a friend’s post on Facebook. When the more official resource compendiums fall short, there might be someone on your timeline who can point you in the right direction.
If what you want doesn’t exist yet, you might be the one to create it. Whatever publications, events, or spaces you worry about being excluded from “started with a person feeling unseen in their own queerness,” Chatterjee reminds us. There is a long lineage of LGBTQ+ people who have used their marginalization as an impetus to build, and you can be part of it if you choose to be.
Lindsay King-Miller's writing has appeared in Glamour Magazine, Bitch Magazine, Cosmopolitan, Vice, and numerous other publications. She lives in Denver with her partner, their daughter, and two very spoiled cats. Lindsay is the author of Ask A Queer Chick (Plume, 2016).