XoJane recently published
an article about someone with schizoaffective disorder’s death being a
blessing. Outrage ensued. The author’s name became anonymous. The editors of xoJane,
at least temporarily, locked their Twitter profiles, then released this
apology:
Screencap of: “I apologize for an article that was posted here yesterday, entitled “My Former Friend’s Death Was a Blessing.” I deeply regret the hurt that this article has caused and understand that it has perpetuated stigma and diminished the lives of people with mental illness. I am committed to immediately reviewing our vetting process to ensure that this experience has a positive influence on the ways in which we at xoJane present all women going forward. I appreciate all of you who took the time to let us know how you felt about this issue.”
I will not link to the
archived version of the article right now. I would like to focus on what
happens when you write about these topics like that. When you write that it’s
better that people with mental health needs — especially people with
particularly shunned diagnoses — die, this is what I know about you: I do not
trust you with anyone. And I do not trust anyone who would post such a thing. I
do not know the motivation of an editor allowing it to be posted. There are a
multitude of reasons people have suggested, most of them related to increasing
page hits and profit. A lot of people already think our lives have no value.
They will continue to visit the page. Or, people outside the disability
rights/mental health communities will not hear about it.
What happens when you
write this way is a lot. It first of all tells people with mental illness — and
again especially those with more shunned diagnoses — that people think we’re
better off dead. It confirms some of our worst fears, our darkest, deepest
worries. I do not think there is any data on this, but I suspect this way of
writing about us encourages people to kill themselves.
It also presumes to know
what the person with mental illness would have wanted. It presumes that we
always think of ourselves as shells, better off dead, and that our suffering
will always outweigh our right and desire to live. And indeed, some of us do
feel that we are suffering a lot, and/or have suicidal ideation. I spent time
in a hospital this January to prevent a suicide attempt! But writing that you
know they’d be happy with the way they died and that being dead is better for
them perpetuates in a very active way negative self-value and more fear and
more, “Well, no one will miss me if I die.”
Then, it reinforces the
narrative to other people, casual readers, that we are miserable, soulless
unpeople. That with how uncomfortable we make people, we ought to be dead. Like
I’ve mentioned in other pieces, we are at best inconvenient and uncomfortable
to people. People are allowed to be uncomfortable with actions and statements,
and assert boundaries — I have said awkward things to people in episodes of my
cyclical mental illness and done my share of sometimes screwing up — but to
capitalize off it and further the idea that we’re inherently bad and wrong and
unpeople is unethical.
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