If her struggles are purely performative, as some here speculate, then that is obviously manipulative and gross. If they are real, then what does that say about us as an audience, who are literally supporting (via ad revenue, engagement, etc) this woman's public mental unraveling? It's an endless cycle.
Yup.
I feel like this is the worst possible career choice other than maybe being an ambulance driver, well okay, no, thinking out loud, maybe there are many bad choices I take that back but "influencer" is way up there, for someone with Britney's mental health worries. In the NY Times article I posted a while back the tiktoker (lol is that what they are) who used mental health as content only got worse, but never could cut the cord from it, spiraling further into the depths of ever more severe maladaptive behavior.
I noticed on this last vlog a tendency to try to reduce audience expectations on everything. I'm anxious and hormonal so... I'm not an intellectual so... I don't write reviews so... It's the latest in the "it's just a hobby"so... Don't judge me in other words. A keen strategy to be shitty at everything and then say but I told you this is not my forte.
I also agree that you can't really judge whether someone has real mental health problems and it's easy to go into the "should". She should not be anxious b/c she has so much privilege etc. Many super privileged folks are extremely sick. While it may not seem logical from the outside, one can never know all the reasons and what their life is really like. I don't think she is making this up or necessarily exaggerating.
I guess I'm stating the obvious here, sorry if I sound patronizing. I have struggled my entire life with serious, life thwarting depression and in my view we need to get away from telling people it doesn't make sense in their circumstance. That sets everyone backwards. It's not a circumstance. My sister had the same parents, the same financial worries, the same shit but did not have severe depression. Is it b/c she is stronger? Nope. Crappy level of serotonin? Bathed in testosterone in vitro? Depressed mom failed to make a proper attachment? Who fucking knows? I sure wish I did and could flip whatever brain fuse switches are flipped, uncross the wires.
That said, do I want to be my sister? No. She's fucked up in other ways and doesn't even know it. At least the depression I had forced me into therapy and I'm self aware of my own limitations. See? I can be positive. LOLOLOLOL.