Navigating A Flawed Mental Health Dialogue in India
Religion, Politics & Mental Health
Mental health challenges are not new to humanity, even if the nature and triggers for those challenges have changed. Civilisations had different ways to cope with these cracks in our pysche. Religion was one of the primary spaces, being that it is the most common source of reassurance, hope & belonging. Unfortunately (and perhaps for the same reason), religion is also the oldest home to the worst of human nature – abuse, exploitation, marginalisation and politics. And India is a hotbed of religion intertwining with every aspect of social structure, ritual and life. Indian mental health is a distinct cultural issue that cannot be divorced from its context.
I’ve been advised to seek a therapist that suits me. Friends have suggested looking at gender, cultural background (in the case of those living in multi-racial places) and age. How can I assess whether the politics of a person make it safe for me to open my mental health to their mercies?
I wrote an essay for a popular publication titled ’There’s a woman in your gym!’ about the pointless gendering in gyms. I made a single reference to a two minute breathing exercise that I had picked up from a yoga class. The editor morphed my story into a ‘Gymming is the evil Western influence, yoga is the best’ beast. It horrified me. In despair, I withdrew my piece and was blackballed from that publication.
I had a kitchen accident and found myself seated in the doctor’s clinic requesting emergency burn treatment. As I sat in that humiliating position with my dress pulled up and thigh exposed, the doctor held forth for 15 minutes – a vicious diatribe against a minority group. I could not get up and walk out. I did not dare voice my opposition. That hurt most of all.
This is how fraught Indian life is, even in spaces that we think are agnostic to faith. Belief & allegiance are landmines in conversations in India today. From dating apps to workplace meetings to taking an autorickshaw, it’s hard to know who will feel justified in hurting you because their faith/politics have dehumanised you.
The ‘Therapy For All’ Cult
Therapy champions in India remind me of Swifties. The fandoms are just as militant and toxic. You know the type: “I’ve had therapy for X years, so now I’m qualified to diagnose you.” If it looks and smells like a pyramid scheme, it probably is.
I was chatting with a friend who’s a staunch advocate for therapy. I thought we were having an objective discussion about systemic issues—like the lack of accountability among therapists and the intersections of privilege in mental health.
Instead, she began hitting out at me, personal and hard. “You’re just focusing on the bad,” she said, shutting me down while I tried to tell her about my personal experiences with irresponsible therapists. Then she dismissed me with, “Okay, then don’t do therapy” and hung up.

There is something frantic & untrustworthy about this kind of refusal to engage with critiques. It’s worse that it’s not even personal (this friend is not a therapist or professional mental health worker). It indicates the toxic culture I’ve seen around therapy champions: a refusal to acknowledge that therapy, like any other system, is imperfect and can fail people. Their belief in therapy is so absolute, it’s practically religion. They don’t seem to notice that they invalidate the very struggles they claim to advocate for. When I don’t feel heard by a system, how can I possibly trust it to help me navigate the consequences of that invisibility on my mental health?
Comfortable Crutches: The Self-Medicating Excuse
Self-medication has become a trendy explanation for destructive behavior. We are told that a number of people are actually mentally ill people and are turning to alcohol, drugs, sex, or other destructive habits to cope. But let’s be real: it’s a giant shrug at deeper questions of accountability. ‘They are self-medicating’ is framed as a compassionate explanation. What bothers me is how this idea gets presented—almost as if such people don’t have a choice. They do. The folks being described here are functional, not out of their minds. They’re choosing to pour their time, money, and energy into these habits instead of seeking real help.
And it’s not because they can’t afford it. Therapy, medication, even gyms and yoga classes—these things are just as accessible to the Indian privileged class that leans on “self-medicating” as a defense. The real problem isn’t affordability or access; it’s a refusal to face the stigma, the discomfort, and the work that actual healing requires.

What makes it worse? These same people, often cocooned in their privilege, don’t just lean on unhealthy coping mechanisms—they weaponize them. They’re not above exploiting others—minorities, women, children, or people from lower socioeconomic backgrounds—while ducking accountability for their own actions. It’s a neat little system: self-medicate, blame the world, and let someone else clean up the mess. My sympathy ends when someone’s ‘struggles’ are used as justification for parasitic behavior. Healing requires accountability, not attack. Lashing out is not a valid coping mechanism and poor mental health should not be used to excuse it.
Male Mental Health & The Double Standard
Another troubling facet of mental health discourse that often goes unexamined: the way male vulnerability is framed and weaponised. Conversations about mental health in men are typically accompanied by calls to dismantle the stigma around men seeking help. But the reality is that this vulnerability operates like a gated community—accessible only to other cis men.
Men may admit they need help to their peers, but rarely do they extend this openness to women or other genders. Instead, family members, especially women, are expected to absorb the fallout of their struggles. Fathers lash out at children, husbands turn their anger onto wives, and male colleagues perpetuate toxic workplace dynamics—all while their mental health is neatly framed as anxiety or depression.
While these diagnoses may be accurate, they too often serve as excuses for harmful behavior. Violence, neglect, and abuse are reframed as symptoms rather than choices, shielding men from accountability while placing the onus on their victims to endure and understand. It’s an insidious cycle: the same structures that grant men unchecked power also shield them from the responsibility that should accompany it.

The contrast between how mental health issues manifest in men and women is equally stark. Depressed women are often suicidal, retreating inward and turning their pain on themselves. In contrast, depressed men are more likely to become violent, projecting their struggles outward onto those around them. Both are tragic outcomes, but only one has a significant collateral toll, inflicted on others who are often already disadvantaged in gendered power dynamics.
This double standard extends beyond individual relationships to broader systems. Male misbehavior is regularly excused or justified under the guise of mental health advocacy, while women and non-male individuals facing similar struggles are dismissed as overly emotional or attention-seeking. It reveals the deep imbalance not just in how we approach mental health, but in how we allocate empathy and accountability. Remember this 2022 incident in Vivek Vihar Delhi? An entire family of 11 kidnapped, raped by multiple members and paraded naked a married woman. The justification? She had rejected the persistent advances of their minor son who later committed suicide. This is how far we go in holding women to ransom on the threat of male mental health.
You can always rely on good old cis het men to turn everything into a predatory quest. What’s Indian masculinity without mangling mental health? True story – I matched with a dude who had decided (via Wikipedia) that he was depressed and the solution was not medication or therapy but one night stands. Believe the victim, indeed (even if they’re internet-diagnosed).
Healing Without Hype: Reclaiming Control Over My Mental Health
In the last two years, I received a diagnosis of mental illness. My journey to recovery wasn’t through therapists but doctors, who I could at least hold accountable. COVID left my body’s chemical balance in shambles, manifesting in thyroid fluctuations, fatigue, respiratory trouble, painful periods, and memory loss.
A noticeable panic attack—one I didn’t even recognize as a panic attack at first—finally pushed me to seek help. The experience was like a ‘90s Windows computer bug: my brain jammed, with thoughts piling up faster than I could process. Alone, facing a stranger—a passport verification officer at my door—I felt utterly helpless.
Eventually, I found a psychiatrist who listened to me without preaching or dismissing my concerns. She understood body chemistry, not just “the talk.” With her, I found a treatment plan I could trust and follow. It was the exact opposite of the war I’d faced in the name of mental health.
~O~O~O~O~O~
While I was working on this post, I had a call from a friend who has escaped an abusive family with her young child. She told me about being a mentor in a program run by her linguistic/religious community. Students of various grades who show promise are honored and aligned with mentors such as herself with expertise in various fields. It reminded me of the Christian church undertaking similar initiatives to nurture their congregations. Including counselling for couples before marriage on subjects ranging from emotional intelligence, sex and managing joint finances.
This friend credited a lot of her current stable mental health to what she called ‘a counselling course’ for new mothers. It includes identifying the self as separate from the child, navigating the fraught mother-in-law/daughter-in-law dynamic and more. She also whispered to me that her family didn’t know that she had spent that much money on this program. I told her, “It’s your money and it is working for you. It is not an expense but an investment.”
She is braving not just the issues of domestice abuse, single parenthood and financial worries but also the judgement of people at two ends of the spectrum – the ‘walk out on everyone’ West apers and the ‘you’re selfish’ tradition-bound.

Yet this conversation gives me hope. In both instances of interactive support she told me about, Indian mental health is being addressed in context-relevant, safe, non-judgemental ways. It made me realize that a new framework for Indian mental health is necessary—one that prioritizes empathy and real solutions over empty rhetoric. The therapist’s perspective on Indian mental health must evolve to be more inclusive and grounded in the lived realities of the people it aims to serve. The way forward is not jargon, not cliques, not expensive fads and definitely not victim complexes, fanaticism or bullying. It’s empathy, adaptability and humility.
This is a follow-up post to a previous post calling out the flaws in the therapy model in India. Please consider reading the other post as well – The Indian Mental Health Circus: Is Therapy For India?.