Sane and Sorted

The Statement that Triggers Every Alarm

It’s no secret that dating in the modern era is dogged with challenges. While the plethora of apps profess to connect us with ease and speed to an ocean of hopefuls, the reality for many is less connection, more time wasting and more exposure to judgment, racism, sexism and harassment than we can poke a dick pic at.

However, amid the smorgasbord of aforementioned delights that can leave users feeling like disposable trash, there’s another loathsome trend yet to be addressed. The smugness of the so-called ‘sane and sorted’ elite.

Whether it be the self-proclaimers presumably asserting their own lives are perfectly on track, or the kind insisting they will only consider those without a skerrick of baggage (and often it’s both), it not only smacks of holier than thou arrogance, it also further perpetuates mental health stigma.

Here’s a newsflash. Baggage is unavoidable through life. Yes, yours too, and it’s also highly likely we’ll be touched or affected by mental illness in some capacity, whether through our own experiences or those close to us.

Twenty per cent of Australians currently battle mental illness and almost 50 per cent will do so in their lifetime. That’s half the nation and probably more who might be unaware or not seeking help. And while the more common symptoms such as depression and anxiety may not render one ‘insane’, they are all part of the same spectrum.

Besides, how does one measure levels of sanity and sortedness? Is it zero depressive episodes in a lifetime, or is a touch of the blues now and then acceptable?

Is it ok to have some financial troubles or will only the squeaky cleanest credit rating do?

Is an extended period of grief a game changer or is it tolerated because even the most together and fortunate will lose someone they love eventually?

All right, let’s turn it up a notch.

A bout of post traumatic stress requiring temporary medication and therapy. Tinkering too closely with sanity to be date worthy or do we sympathise and offer a supportive ear, knowing that such misfortunes don’t define a person?

If I’m in the midst of changing jobs or still unsure of my career path, am I ousted to the scrap pile because I’m not as ‘sorted’ as some in their flashy and savvy digital media comms hipster startup client liaison project management role? Or are they not as shallow and pretentious as they sound?

Is the occasional panic attack off the menu or socially tolerable as long as it doesn’t happen in the presence of a sane and sorted majesty?

Does a one time dalliance with alcohol dependency immediately cut me (and millions of others, by the way) out of the running or does it indicate I’m a survivor and have the strength to overcome the greatest of difficulties?

How about a bipolar sufferer who is completely stable on their medication. Do we throw them in the too hard basket or have the compassion and decency to know they have a disease, and like a cancer sufferer, we would not discriminate on that basis?

I admit, there are those who play the victim all too often, seeking to generate sympathy and attention at every turn and wearing their woes like a badge of honour, whose neediness levels are better suited to a professional than a partner.

Moreover, most singles would understandably rather avoid shacking up with Ted Bundy or Myra Hindley, but that kind of concern for being butchered should not justify such an increasing inclination to eliminate anyone whose life isn’t a Disney flick or whose less than flawless mental health has you banishing their overall sanity.

Besides, what’s to say you won’t fall in love with someone you perceive to be sane and sorted, who, down the track suffers a breakdown or psychotic episode? Would you abandon them? Or what if it’s you having the melt down? Presumably you’d want to be helped and nurtured through it. In sickness and in health and all that.

Nobody is immune to the struggle of life. If you think you are, or reckon you’re above it all or just generally baggage free, you’re either pre-adolescent, a liar or in complete denial with little to no self-awareness. Or perhaps you’re just a dick.

And if you’re the kind of person who writes sane and sorted on your profile, yet in the next breath, professes to be a mental health advocate, supporter or most ironic of all — sufferer, then you’re definitely a dick. With a pic of it, no doubt.

Originally published at https://www.rosslarkin.net.