Why I didn't like your Halloween costume.

Ever seen that episode of The Office where Jim says that dressing up for Halloween was something he always felt too old for? Same. Even when I did dress up, I opted for easy things- one may even say basic. While my costumes have never been excessively elaborate or artfully planned out, it doesn't mean that I don't enjoy the annual scroll through instagram to see how others have crafted their own outfits for the holiday. 

I went through my feed and started to double tap the pictures of my friends covered in body glitter, crowns, and pearls. Their captions were so clever, their poses perfect. 

In the midst of Gossip Girls, mermaids, and aliens, though, were people dressed as if they were mentally insane. As much as I loved these people who were doused in fake blood or ratted hair and smeared makeup, I couldn't bring myself to like their pictures. 

As a person who has struggled with mental illness in the past, I felt incredibly irritated that it was deemed "fun," "sexy," or even "scary" to be dressed as someone with a psychological illness. Some may say that I am being overly sensitive, and it's possible that I am- but hear me out. 

For a holiday where we get to dress like something we aren't or even something we wish we could be, why would you ever want to dress up as something that some people struggle with on a daily basis? Why would you want to dress like someone's deepest secret or most personal battle? When did it become socially acceptable to make light of someone's illness and pass it off as a trendy costume that we don for instagram likes, witty captions, or as an excuse to cover our bodies in lingerie and fake blood looking like we just killed somebody after a manic episode? 

This is somebody's reality. Someone out there is struggling with issues most of us can't even fathom. Everyday there is somebody who questions their value and self worth because the disease they are living with is feeding them falsities that they have trouble distinguishing from their own capabilities. Each time we dress up as a mentally insane person, we are making fun of a larger issue. We are saying that it's not that serious, that it's not that big of a deal. 

To someone, though, it's everything. It's a constant up-hill battle within themselves that they are trying to win. While it literally is all in their head in the sense that these things are happening within their mind, it's not okay to say that as if they can control it or put a stop to it. They're not trying to be this way. It's not enjoyable for them. If it were truly possible to stop mental illness 100% of the time on our own, don't you think we wouldn't have things like depression, anxiety, or bipolar disorders?

I'm not trying to preach or say that I've never been in the wrong. I've called people and situations crazy or insane. That's not okay either. 

The language we use and the way in which our culture reacts to these verbages has a huge impact. It makes those struggling feel different from the rest of the group; from the "normal."

When an organization I'm apart of first said they wanted to start refraining from calling things crazy, I questioned it. I didn't see how saying "That's so crazy" could impact another human being. 

But it does. 

I remember being at my lowest and thinking there was something so incredibly wrong with me that I could never be better. I remember feeling like I was losing my mind. At my worst, I remember thinking I would never feel happy again. To me, that was my definition of crazy. That I was literally losing it. 

So when people the next day after Halloween were asking me if I had seen their photo on instagram and asked if I liked it- here's why I didn't. I can't stop people from dressing up in this way, but I can control what I endorse. And I don't endorse this.