Is Donald Trump experiencing a mental illness? That's the question making the rounds these days. The answer is: I don't know. And neither do the commentators, tweeters and psychiatrists - both licensed and armchair - who've diagnosed him from afar as "crazy," a "psychopath," not "sane," having "narcissistic personality disorder" and a "screw loose."
What I do know is that we ought to stop casually throwing around terms like "crazy" in this campaign and our daily lives. The president of the American Psychiatric Association has said that even for professionals, these sorts of diagnoses, made from afar, are "unethical" and "irresponsible." And they only serve to demean and undercut people.
"Crazy" is never uttered with compassion. I have never heard it used in the context of trying to get someone the treatment they need. When that language is commonplace, it becomes that much harder for those experiencing mental illness to openly seek treatment that works. It discriminates, in subtle and overt ways, and extends its reach into schools, workplaces and the health-care system, where we still don't provide routine mental health exams.
When we use that word the way we have, we perpetuate the dangerous, "separate and unequal" treatment of these illnesses, and continue to pretend that the brain isn't part of the body.
With all of this damaging rhetoric floating around in our national political discourse, especially what we hear from and about Trump, it's no wonder that people remain silent and the suffering continues. We alienate our friends and family members. We further separate ourselves from kids with ADHD, a colleague with anxiety, a neighbour with depression.