Is Dr Instagram ruining your health?
Social media diagnoses and cyber cures are preying on the sick and vulnerable, finds Tabi Jackson Gee
According to the 13 million people on Instagram who’ve used the #selfcare hashtag, looking after mind and body is all about homemade juices, homoeopathy and meditation. But while taking care of yourself is important, could believing those things are the route to proper, lifelengthening physical health be putting us all in danger?
I don’t know where my own deep-rooted mistrust of mainstream medicine came from – my grandfather was the Queen’s doctor and my uncle an eminent consultant radiologist – but I’m not alone.
According to research, 38 per cent of millennials say they trust their peers more than medical professionals. This is 58 per cent less than any other cohort studied. Meanwhile, 55 per cent of us believe online health resources like WEBMD are as reliable as information from a doctor and 28 per cent of us would self-diagnose.
And it doesn’t stop there. Social media is rife with influencers offering wellness and weight loss techniques, loosely disguised as progressive health tips. Who cares what food groups you’re missing out on, as long as you #Gettheglow? This has even led to Harley Street doctors issuing warnings to young people about the dangers of following diets and medical advice they find on their social media feeds.
This isn’t just about 20-something glow-seekers either. It’s also difficult for a vulnerable, poorly person, or a concerned parent, to recognise fake news. Take the anti-vax debate. A survey by Pew found 83 per cent of Americans understand that vaccines are safe. And yet 75 per cent of pins or discussions about vaccines on Pinterest were anti-vax, which led to it blocking searches for the term.
When we’re scared or unwell, we’ll look to anything for a life raft. I should know: I spent most of my 20s really quite ill, but thanks to the medley of self-doctoring pseudoscientific crazes I adopted to make myself feel better, I had no idea.
Instead of seeking professional help for my chronic stress, depression, night terrors, bimonthly periods, yo-yoing weight and unpredictable mood swings, I tried to treat myself; with a combination of meditation courses, therapy, exercise and diets. I believed what I saw on Instagram; that I had the power to fix myself, one goji berry at a time.
I tried to iron out my anxiety in spinning classes, turn down the worries in my head in a hot yoga studio, and ran for miles trying to coax my stressed mind into submission. I was convinced it was all in my head, that the route back to peak health lay in my own hands.
A five-minute trip to the GP in my early 20s left me with prescriptions for sleeping pills, antidepressants and a recommendation I get my thyroid checked. The latter is something I regret not doing because, spoiler alert, that was exactly where the problem lay. As for the first two, medication meant failure in my eyes.
I wanted to heal my body the natural way; without scary drugs. It was 2013, people were just starting to talk about mental health, and I took up a mindfulness-based stress reduction course. It was useful – I still meditate now – but it wasn’t the proper solution I so desperately needed. At some point, we all find out the hard way that we can’t fix everything ourselves. For me that was last November when, aged 29, and two months into feeling a horrid concoction of stress, sleeplessness and lethargy, I thought about seeing a doctor again.
Things had got bad very quickly. Within six weeks I’d gone from leading a healthy, happy normal life to not being able to walk to the end of my road. I couldn’t face seeing anyone, even close friends and family – my fatigue was so extreme that being in the presence of other people wiped me out for days. Trapped in my flat, alone and bedbound, I genuinely thought I was having some kind of mental breakdown.
Two misdiagnoses later, it turns out there was a lot more to it than that. An underactive thyroid, for starters. And hormone deficiencies. And a virus left over from a glandular fever I never knew I’d had. And gut problems. My 92-yearold grandma now takes less medication than I do. More anecdotal evidence of the dangerous extremities of this Instagram-fuelled self-care phenomenon is easy to come by. I have one friend who’s fought clinical depression with a mindfulness app, another who’s gone to Sri Lanka to deal with chronic stress – but hasn’t visited her GP in three years. Then there are the people who are told they can cure their own cancers if they simply follow the right diet.
I’m all for helping yourself when you can, but don’t tell people who’ve watched a loved one die of a cancer that they may have lived if only they’d eaten a few more alkaline vegetables.
Not only is it offensive, but it’s also a hideous false economy; someone, somewhere is profiting from us believing in the myth of our own self-doctoring super powers. Lest we forget, Australian wellness magnate Belle Gibson, who built an entire empire on the lie that she had cured her brain cancer with clean eating, before admitting that she had lied about having the disease in the first place.
Please don’t get me wrong. I believe wholeheartedly that we must look after ourselves and I am not doubting the healing power of the body and mind. But the slow, calming walks I took with my dog would have been futile without the right medication. And I also believe in the centuries of scientific study that have led to us not dying from a common cold, like previous generations. And this is the problem: sometimes self-care and Dr Google let us forget that we are part of a much bigger picture.
As early as 2006, a study showed that the majority of health-related internet searches were for specific medical conditions, before or after a patient was diagnosed. They were either for reassurance, or because of dissatisfaction with the amount of information provided at the time. Doctors don’t give you easy answers, because that’s not their job. Their job is to give you the best care they can. The internet, meanwhile, will tell you almost anything you want to hear.
So it’s no wonder we look to social media for validation. But let’s not forget the true meaning of self-care. It’s about looking after your physical health as well as your mental health. It’s about doctors and blood tests and professional, regulated advice. And Instagram has absolutely nothing to do with that.
I believed what I saw on Instagram; that I had the power to fix myself, one goji berry at a time