Calling in sick at work is one thing. Now how ’bout a mental day off?

If you sent a mail to your boss, say, on Sunday morning saying you need a day for your mental health, will (s)he think you’re properly off your rocker?

Recently, a 26-year-old woman’s email, that she sent to her office colleagues, including the CEO, went viral. In it, she (her name is Madalyn Parker, and she lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan) spoke of taking a couple of days off from work to focus on her “mental health”; her exact words were, “Hey team, I’m taking today and tomorrow to focus on my mental health. Hopefully, I’ll be back next week refreshed and back to 100 per cent.”

Her CEO emailed her right back, saying, “I can’t believe this [mental health off days] is not a standard practice at all organisations… You are an example to us all, and help cut through the stigma so we can all bring our whole selves to work.”

This exchange — that has gone viral on social media — seems to be a thumping assertion that “mental health” is being taken seriously… at least, in certain quarters (like the company this young woman is working at).

As it should be. In fact, mental health should be taken seriously in all quarters — starting with grassroots addressal.

But my question is: what exactly qualifies as mental health?

If one goes by the textbook definition, and cuts through medical jargon, it roughly means emotional wellbeing; it’s far more broad-based than just clinical issues like schizophrenia or chronic depression or an impending meltdown.

I’m thinking of the vast grey area that can be construed as “mental health”.

But first, let me hasten to add that I am not trying to hint — not for a single second — that Madalyn was pulling off a con-job; I’m sure she needed time off for some pertinent cause; she told CNN, “I had experienced several nights of insomnia and was poorly rested and also having lots of suicidal thoughts, which make it difficult to accomplish much at work” — so this is not really about her, her story forms only the context.

Getting back to the vast grey area I’d mentioned above, my immediate question was: what if I’m emotionally more vulnerable than my other work colleagues — does that qualify me to take more number of leaves than the others? And will that be all right with the rest (who have to pick up my slack)? Okay, if I’m dealt an emotional body blow (like a death in the family or someone close to me falling seriously ill), it’s great form for my organisation and co-workers to recognise my need for a support system, but surely I cannot expect to be treated differently because I have unresolved “issues”? Maybe once or twice, but repeatedly?

More: what’s to deter some other “fast learners” to suddenly jump onto the bandwagon and claim, hey, guess what, I have mental health issues too, so I need an off day? See you in a tick!

As it so happened, I’d come across a report published by UK-based Royal Society for Public Health a couple of weeks before this social media-driven taking-leave-because-I-had-to-tend-to-the-stateof-my-mental health virality took shape. The report looks into how social media platforms — Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, Twitter and YouTube — “impact” the mental health of young people (young people defined as “teens and young 20-somethings”, and I’m guessing the bias is because they are probably more likely to be more frequently on social media than the older lot).

The verdict was: mental health is in shambles because of social media in general, with Instagram and Snapchat being the worst of the bad guys (YouTube is, reportedly, the minimum offender). Patrick Anderson of argusleader.com, who did a feature on the study, quoted the report thus: “Four of five responders surveyed said social media worsened their anxiety. Research shows heavy users of social media are more likely to report psychological distress.”

I thought it was telling. A mental health debate goes viral on social media; social media is proving to be the undoing for mental health. Is this what you call an inverse equation?

Imagine someone overdosing on social media platforms, and then suffering from anxiety (why didn’t so-and-so not heart my post?), depression (why is my neighbour planning a trip to the Maldives while I have to make do with Mamzar Beach with, at best, a picnic hamper thrown in?) or body-image “issues” (how come my cousin looks this good in a selfie taken seconds after she’s woken up while I look like something the cat dragged in?)? And then claiming it’s a concern on par with real mental health traumas? And then take leave?

Throwback to what Madalyn’s CEO said: “I can’t believe this [mental health off days] is not a standard practice at all organisations…”

I don’t believe it’s going to be standard practice anytime soon.