The Psychological Casualties of Woke Culture

Assessing the damage in the mental health field, charting recovery

As woke ideology – identity politics mutated to its most toxic form – faces cultural extinction, we can finally assess its casualties. Like a receding tide exposing a ravaged coastline, we now see clearly the psychological devastation left in its wake. The wreckage in our collective mental health will take generations to repair. Reminds me of some stories (details altered of course)

"I just can't succeed in this field," Marcus said, slumping deeper into the chair across from me. His eyes fixed on the carpet, tracing invisible patterns as he spoke. "The system is rigged against people like me. Every time I see someone get their dream job ahead of me, I know it's because they had advantages I never had."

The heaviness in his voice matched the weight of his shoulders. I'd seen this posture countless times before – the physical manifestation of a narrative that had been fed to him by a culture obsessed with victimhood. As a therapist, I've watched this ideology spread like a virus through my practice, transforming capable individuals into willing prisoners of their own perceived oppression.

"Tell me more about what you mean by 'people like me,'" I prompted, noting how his jaw tightened at the question. The very phrase was a red flag – the kind of tribal self-categorization that modern ideology practically force-feeds to vulnerable minds.

"Middle-class background. Minority. First-generation college graduate. No connections, no privilege." He rattled off these identifiers like a well-rehearsed confession of original sin. "All these influencers talk about 'hustle culture' and 'networking your way to the top,' but they don't understand what it's like for people without the right background. They started on third base thinking they hit a triple."

The irony wasn't lost on me. The very algorithms feeding him this narrative of helplessness were precision-engineered to keep him engaged and angry. Each time he engaged with content about systemic oppression, the AI behind his social feeds served him more of the same – a personalized drip-feed of confirmation bias. Viral threads about workplace discrimination, Instagram reels about privilege, TikTok storytimes about corporate bias – all curated to keep him scrolling through an endless catalog of reasons why success was impossible for "people like him." The digital world had become his daily dose of learned helplessness, delivered with algorithmic precision.

"When did you first start seeing things this way?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"College," he said, and I had to suppress a knowing sigh. "My professors opened my eyes to how the system really works. There were entire courses about structural barriers and privilege hierarchies. It finally explained why nothing seemed to work out the way I wanted."

Of course it was college. I've watched as universities transformed from places of intellectual liberation into assembly lines of ideological conformity. What began in humanities departments has metastasized across campuses, creating generations of graduates who've been taught to see themselves as perpetual victims of invisible forces beyond their control.

The tragedy here wasn't Marcus's circumstances – it was how perfectly he'd internalized the oppression narrative. Here was a bright, capable professional who'd been convinced that his identity was his destiny. Twenty five years in the mental health field had taught me something chilling about the power of cultural programming: give people a narrative of helplessness, dress it up in academic language about "systemic barriers," and watch as they build their own mental prisons.

The real genius of this system is its self-reinforcing nature. Feel like a failure? Your social media feed is ready with a thousand reasons why it's not your fault. Need validation for your sense of helplessness? There's an entire academic framework ready to explain why your failures are actually evidence of your oppression. Want to avoid the hard work of personal growth? Here's a ready-made ideology that tells you self-improvement is just another tool of systemic oppression.

Marcus wasn't just telling me about his circumstances; he was showcasing how thoroughly modern ideology had colonized his mind. His operating system had been hijacked by a belief system that thrived on learned helplessness. The real privilege at play here wasn't economic or social – it was the privilege of those who benefit from keeping bright minds shackled by self-doubt and resentment.

In that moment, I saw Marcus not just as an individual seeking therapy, but as a casualty of what I've come to call the "oppression industrial complex" – a vast machinery of academic theories, media narratives, and cultural messaging that profits from convincing people their failures are never their fault and their success is always out of reach. The most insidious part? This ideology presents itself as liberation while quietly slipping on the handcuffs of perpetual victimhood.

Between the constant drumbeat of social media outrage and the pseudo-intellectual framework provided by modern academia, this mindset has become nearly inescapable. Each retweet, each shared post about systemic oppression, each viral thread about privilege becomes another brick in the mental prison. The algorithm knows exactly what content will keep you engaged – and nothing engages quite like the comforting narrative that your failures aren't your fault.

The Patient Factory

Oh, the beautiful irony of it all. Here sits Marcus, depressed about his inability to succeed in a system that's literally designed to depress him. It would be hilarious if it weren't so perfectly engineered. Think about it: we've created a masterpiece of manipulation, a symphony of societal control where every instrument plays its part in perfect harmony.

First, feed him a steady diet of "you can't" from an early age. Let politicians, legacy media and academia plant the seeds of perpetual victimhood. Then have social media algorithms water those seeds daily with carefully curated stories of systemic oppression. Watch them grow into a lush garden of learned helplessness. And when he's sufficiently miserable from living this manufactured narrative? Well, there's a whole industry ready to diagnose his perfectly rational response to this soul-crushing story as a "chemical imbalance."

It's genius, really. Marcus isn't just depressed – he's living exactly the life that's been scripted for him, following stage directions he doesn't even know he's been given. And here's the punchline: he thinks this story is his own. He believes these thoughts are his thoughts, these limitations are his limitations, this helplessness is his natural state.

He knows nothing else and questioning this reality is akin to a personal attack. This is where therapists have to tread lightly but skillfully.

Want to know why antidepressant use is skyrocketing? Because it's supposed to! That's the point! Create the condition, sell the cure – it's Business 101, folks. And business is booming. Every time Marcus scrolls through his social media feed, every time he listens to a podcast about his inherent disadvantages, every time he absorbs another story about why he can't succeed, his brain is being rewired for learned helplessness. And wouldn't you know it? There's a pill for that!

Let's follow the script, shall we? Marcus feels crushed by life (right on schedule). He visits a doctor (as planned). Gets diagnosed with depression (check). Walks out with a prescription (bingo!). Now he's not just a victim of society – he's also a victim of his own brain chemistry. Double victimhood achievement unlocked!

It's a closed loop of learned helplessness: feel bad about your life → scroll through social media that reinforces your victimhood → get diagnosed with depression → take medication → feel temporarily numbed (maybe)→ but never address the root cause → repeat. Each cycle makes it harder to see the truth: that most of what we accept as "reality" is actually a carefully curated narrative designed to keep us docile and dependent.

Meanwhile, the real power within each person lies dormant. The ability to create, to overcome, to transform – these aren't just self-help platitudes, they're birthrights that have been buried under layers of societal programming. Marcus didn't need another diagnosis or prescription; he needed to wake up to the reality that his perceived powerlessness was itself a programmed response.

When Activism Masquerades as Therapy

As the Executive Director of a group practice, I've conducted hundreds of interviews over the years. But this one stopped me cold. Dr. Virtue Signal sat across from me, fresh from her doctoral program, armed with a CV that read like a Twitter activist's bio and enough certifications in "Systemic Oppression" and “De-colonizing therapy” to wallpaper my office.

I thought about Marcus, who'd been in my office that morning – depressed, stuck, convinced his circumstances were hopeless. His story was still fresh in my mind as I began the interview.

"Tell me about your therapeutic approach," I said, wondering how she'd handle cases ranging from Marcus's depression to our acute care clients.

"I practice from a social justice orientation," she announced, sitting up straighter. "Traditional therapy often perpetuates systems of oppression by locating the problem within the individual rather than addressing the structural forces that create psychological distress."

I thought about Marcus again, how this exact kind of thinking had him trapped in a cycle of hopelessness. "Let's say you're working with someone who's convinced their depression stems from systemic barriers – what's your approach?"

Her face lit up. "First, we validate their reality. If they're experiencing oppression, we help them see how their depression is actually a natural response to systemic inequality."

"And then?" I prompted, already seeing how this would reinforce every self-defeating belief Marcus held.

"We develop critical consciousness about these systems. Their feelings of powerlessness? That's actually their awakening to structural barriers. Their depression? That's a form of resistance against oppressive systems."

I thought about how Marcus had started with career frustrations, how similar thinking had led him deeper into depression, and how this kind of "therapy" would only accelerate that descent. Then I thought about our more acute cases.

"What about when that depression becomes severe?" I asked. "How would you work with someone who's actively suicidal?"

"Oh, that's crucial," she nodded vigorously. "We'd explore how capitalism and systemic oppression create these feelings of hopelessness. Traditional therapy might try to prevent suicide, but that just perpetuates the oppressive narrative. Instead, we validate their experience of systemic barriers."

"And if they have a detailed plan to end their life tonight? Are you concerned you are feeding the narrative of hopelessness that drive suicide and even violence?”

"That's where we examine how their suicidal ideation is actually a form of resistance against systemic power structures," she explained, with the gentle condescension of someone explaining something obvious. "We help them understand that their pain is political."

I could see it clearly – the path from Marcus's initial hopelessness to potential catastrophe, all paved with this kind of ideological validation. It was a perfect pipeline: Take someone struggling with real challenges, convince them they're helpless against systemic forces, then frame their deepening depression as "awakening."

"Let's talk about eating disorders," I tried to change the subject. "How would you work with severe bulimia?"

"First, we'd explore how patriarchal beauty standards and white supremacy culture have colonized their relationship with food," she began, while I thought about the bulimic teenager whose heart was literally failing.

"Just to clarify," I cut in, my tone carrying a warning any therapist should catch, "would this exploration of systemic oppression happen before or after they're hospitalized for throwing up blood?"

She missed the lethal implication in my voice. Some therapists can read every theory except the room.

She launched into a critique of the "medical-industrial complex" and its "pathologizing of resistance to beauty standards, which I didn’t entirely disagree with. However, somewhere between her discourse on "decolonizing diet culture" and "disrupting medicalized notions of health," I realized she hadn't mentioned a single intervention that might help someone overcome a potentially life threatening situation.

"What outcomes have you seen with this approach?" I asked, thinking about Marcus's steady decline under similar ideology.

"We don't focus on traditional outcomes," she replied. "That's very white supremacy culture. Sometimes clients actually feel worse as they become more aware of systemic oppression – but that's actually a sign of growth!"

The pieces all fit together now. I could see how Marcus's initial struggles, under this kind of "treatment," could easily spiral into something far more dangerous. Start with validating powerlessness, add a heap of systemic hopelessness, mix in some "critical consciousness," and watch as manageable challenges transform into severe depression or worse.

They inhabited the same programmed reality – Marcus and this therapist – though neither could see it. One trapped in victimhood, the other elevated by the illusion of enlightened consciousness. Both perfectly engineered products of the same system.

People can choose their worldview, yes. But what happens when you don't realize your choices were preselected, your thoughts pre-packaged, your very sense of self designed by others? The therapist sat there, convinced of her intellectual supremacy, unaware she was as much a victim of the programming as those she hoped to "liberate."

The true mastery of this manipulation was in its invisibility. She would spend her career spreading the virus that had infected her, believing herself the cure while being the carrier.

This wasn't just ironic. It was dangerous.

The interview concluded with her asking about our center's commitment to "creating safe spaces for those marginalized." I thanked her for her time, promised to be in touch, and added her CV to our "Fuck No" pile.

Breaking Free: The Ultimate Act of Resistance

"Don’t you believe that financial success in the United States is based privilege?" Marcus asked in our previous session, though the question held less conviction than before.

I smiled. "Let me ask you something. Throughout human history, where has the most profound innovation, the most revolutionary art, the most transformative leadership come from? From those who had every advantage, who faced no barriers? Or from those who rose from the ashes of adversity?"

I wasn't going to dismiss the reality of privilege and wealth disparities – that would only entrench his position. Instead, I needed him to notice the cracks in his own certainty, the evidence that contradicted his narrative of powerlessness.

"Is it? Or have we just created an elegant prison of ideology where we teach people to focus on the bars instead of the space between them?" I leaned forward. "Think about how this belief shapes every moment of your life. When you wake up, you see barriers. When you walk into work, you feel disadvantaged. When an opportunity appears, you've already decided it's not for 'people like you.' This isn't just a thought, Marcus – it's a lens that colors every experience, every interaction, every possibility before it even unfolds."

I gestured to his tense shoulders, his downcast eyes. "Your body is living this story right now. Each time you believe you're powerless, your shoulders slump, your energy drains, your mind searches for evidence to confirm what you already believe. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy written in flesh and bone. But here's the thing – if a belief can shape your reality this completely, imagine what a different belief could do."

Here's the ultimate irony: The most insidious form of oppression isn't the obvious kind that chains your body – it's the subtle type that convinces your mind to chain itself. We've engineered a perfect system of mental slavery, where the chains are invisible but just as binding. We call it awareness, enlightenment, consciousness-raising. But look at the fruit it bears: depression, anxiety, helplessness, rage.

This isn't an accident. A population obsessed with its own victimhood, endlessly cataloging its limitations, meticulously documenting its oppression – this is a population that will never reach its true potential. We're so busy teaching people to understand their chains that we've forgotten to show them how to break free.

Think about the magnificent absurdity of it all: We've created a society where the ultimate "awakening" is to realize how powerless you are. Where the height of consciousness is to understand all the reasons you can't succeed. Where therapy itself has been transformed from a tool of liberation into a means of documenting your own imprisonment.

But here's what they don't want you to know: Your spirit – that divine spark that makes you human – doesn't give a damn about your demographic categories. Your soul doesn't care about your intersectional oppression score. The creative force within you that yearns to build, to grow, to transform – it doesn't wait for society's permission or validation.

Throughout history, the most profound changes, the most revolutionary innovations, the most transcendent art – these didn't come from people who were validated in their limitations. They came from those who took their pain, their struggle, their "impossible" circumstances and transformed them into fuel for creation. From the depths of poverty have come visionaries who reimagined economics. From the wounds of trauma have come healers who revolutionized our understanding of the human psyche. From the margins of society have come artists who changed how we see the world itself.

The truth that terrifies the architects of division is simple: We are not our categories. We are not our oppression scores. We are not our trauma narratives. We are something far more dangerous – we are human beings, endowed with the power to create, to choose, to transform.

Every time you accept a narrative of victimhood, you surrender a piece of your divine birthright. Every time you let someone convince you that your pain is purely political, you trade your power for a pat on the head. Every time you allow your struggles to be reduced to demographic categories, you sell your soul for the cheap comfort of belonging to an officially recognized victim class.

Marcus sat with this for a long moment. "So what's the alternative?"

"The alternative is to recognize that your challenges aren't barriers to your growth – they are the raw material of it. The alternative is to understand that trauma, poverty, and struggle aren't just things that happen to you – they're also the forge where greatness is made possible. The alternative is to stop asking for permission to succeed. Everything is happening FOR YOU… Not TOO YOU.

This is the real revolution – not the carefully curated, academically approved, social media-friendly kind that keeps you safely within the bounds of victimhood. This is the dangerous type that starts with recognizing that your power comes from something far deeper than your social categories or your position on the oppression pyramid.

The most radical act in today's world isn't to document your victimhood – it's to transcend it. It isn't to understand your chains – it's to break them. It isn't to validate your limitations – it's to shatter them.

We are not here to be perfectly understood victims. We are here to be creators, transformers, alchemists who turn pain into power and struggles into strength. This is our heritage as human beings. This is our birthright as children of God. This is our freedom – not granted by systems or validated by theories, but inherent in our very nature.

Marcus looked up, something new flickering in his eyes. "Even with all the barriers?"

"Especially with the barriers," I smiled. "After all, what's the point of having barriers if not to transcend them? What's the purpose of ashes if not to rise from them?"

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