In recent years, therapeutic terms like “manipulation,” “gaslighting,” and various diagnostic labels have become part of everyday conversation. While raising awareness about mental health is important, the casual misuse of these terms can dilute their meaning and, more worryingly, endanger others.
The Problem with Mislabeling
When terms like “narcissist” or “gaslighting” are used loosely, they can lose their clinical significance. For example, calling someone a narcissist because they exhibit selfish behavior ignores the complex criteria required for a diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Similarly, labeling disagreements or misunderstandings as “gaslighting” can trivialize the serious psychological abuse the term originally described.
This overuse can harm relationships, stigmatize individuals, and prevent people from getting the professional help they need. When diagnostic terms are thrown around carelessly, those truly suffering from mental health issues may feel invalidated or misunderstood. It can also lead to false accusations, damaging trust and communication between people.
How It Endangers Others
Misusing these terms doesn’t just dilute their meaning; it can also endanger others. For example, accusing someone of being manipulative or gaslighting without fully understanding the context can escalate conflicts and create unnecessary hostility. This can result in serious social consequences, from strained relationships to workplace discrimination.
Additionally, the use of terms based in incorrect information can lead to mismanagement of mental health concerns. It is important that the meaning behind words continue to carry their weight and effectively communicate the severity of an experience or situation. This dilution or twisting of terms can prevent someone from accessing the appropriate treatment or support they need.
A Call for Caution and Compassion
As therapists, we advocate for increased awareness and understanding of mental health. Instead of jumping to conclusions or labeling behaviors with clinical terms, let’s promote open, honest communication and encourage people to seek professional guidance when they’re struggling.
By being mindful of our language, we can help preserve the integrity of these important concepts and protect the mental health and well-being of ourselves and others.
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For readers seeking more information or guidance on mental health topics, consider scheduling an appointment with one of our therapists who can provide professional insight tailored to your individual needs. You can book an appointment by calling (352) 363- 1998.
Misusing clinical terms doesn’t just dilute their meaning; it can also endanger others. For example, accusing someone of being manipulative or gaslighting without fully understanding the context can escalate conflicts and create unnecessary hostility. This can result in serious social consequences, from strained relationships to workplace discrimination.
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Podcasts are my daily companion when I go for walks. Cheryl Strayed’s new podcast Sugar Calling (an episode drops each Wednesday) is a favorite and as I mentioned in an earlier post, she’s reaching out to older (60+), wiser writers for their take on this history we’re right now living through.
What does this have to do with poetry? In last week’s interview with Amy Tan (author of The Joy Luck Club among other great books) Tan and Strayed both spoke about a poem written by poet and editor Daniel Halpern in 2013. Halpern is also Tan’s editor.
Halpern had never been through a pandemic, and had no idea we’d be here 7 years later…so it’s remarkably prescient. (He also didn’t remember writing this poem, which is kind of funny). I felt it just captured so well the moment we’re living through right now.
Read this poem and notice, what words or phrases jump out to you?
What do you feel when you read this poem?
There are fewer introductions
In plague years,
Hands held back, jocularity
No longer bellicose,
Even among men.
Breathing’s generally wary,
Labored, as they say, when
The end is at hand.
But this is the everyday intake
Of the imperceptible life force,
Willed now, slow —
Well, just cautious
In inhabited air.
As for ongoing dialogue,
No longer an exuberant plosive
To make a point,
But a new squirreling of air space,
A new sense of boundary.
Genghis Khan said the hand
Is the first thing one man gives
To another. Not in this war.
A gesture of limited distance
Now suffices, a nod,
A minor smile or a hand
Slightly raised,
Not in search of its counterpart,
Just a warning within
The acknowledgment to stand back.
Each beautiful stranger a barbarian
Breathing on the other side of the gate.
The words that jumped out at me: beautiful stranger. A new sense of boundary. Jocularity, no longer bellicose. And fewer introductions.
I miss the beautiful strangers in my life, even as I hew closer to my favorite co-quarantine people, even as I delight in connection with my beautiful clients and beloved friends and family through a computer screen. I miss the normalcy of chatting with my seatmate on an airplane, small talk with a barista, social transactions at the grocery store, new neighbors, the repair person, the clerk in the shoe store. I miss the beautiful strangers that once populated my days.
There are fewer introductions. In this forced pause, I realize how many shiny new objects, people, events made up the fabric of my days. Days, weeks, months whizzed by at a dizzying pace. This feels like a time to sit with what I have, to hold it, and turn it over in my hands, and look at it. What a gift. And, at times, it feels sad. I miss the new. It’s a paradox.
A new sense of boundary. We have new boundaries in our lives, like it or not. As I move through this time, I’m thinking of how a virus is both real and a metaphor. What is unseen that I let in? Do I want to have more boundaries here, and less there? More there, less here? How permeable is this or that boundary? I have time, now, to think on this. The very idea of boundaries has changed for me, and for many people I talk to.
I appreciate having some distance from some of the jocularity and bellicose-ness. There was a certain pace to our lives before this quarantine time, and a lot of fear and anger and denial accompanied it. Awareness of our culture going awry, the horror of climate disaster looming…somehow, jocularity and bellicose humor seemed both an insult to that reality, and a way to distance ourselves from it. As you’re living it (frantically, quickly, always moving), it’s hard to have perspective, hard to name it, hard to imagine something different. Slowing down and having a break from the hamster wheel feels right somehow, feels good. So does looking at humor and respecting it as a holy tool of resistance, not a way to tap dance faster and faster.
How did this poem speak to you? How do you reconcile the “barbarian at the gate” with your need for people, for touch, for connection in your life?
Be well, wash your hands — and stay connected!
Lisa
