Mental health is no longer associated with a drooling
lunatic in a straitjacket, but something that effects normal people. I met with
LinkedIn’s chief Wellness officer to find out more about how we can protect our
mental health in these uncertain times.
Jules Juventus is no stranger to mental health issues.
“In 2020 I wasn’t connecting to my colleagues. Being away from the office caused me depression and anxiety. That’s when I really started to understand mental health.” Jules says as we drive a golfcart around the corporate wellness centre. The £60 million investment is part medical facility, part resort, with stressed out Directors coming to relax and ‘take a chill pill’.
When the pandemic lifted, the first thing Jules did was research the impact mental health was having on workers, particularly those at the top. The findings literally shocked him.
“Did you know the global economy is losing trillions of
dollars every year to people having time off work? Pre-pandemic, this tended to
be around accidents or illnesses. Now, we’re talking about stress, burnout, apathy.
Its as if workers don’t see the value in the work they do. That’s why LinkedIn
has partnered with the government to develop the wellness centre.”
The golf cart makes a few loops, passing tennis courts, swimming pools and finally ending up at a spa. I ask Jules what people might benefit from by relaxing. He laughs.
“You know the number one cause of stress is not being able to express yourself. Its not very relaxing if your team hasn’t delivered, and a lot of our clients find they just want to talk.”
We go through a corridor and monitor a communication workshop. An actor plays at a middle manager, with Directors and CEOs finally getting a chance to vent their frustration. Currently the CEO of Brewdog, James Watt, was screaming in the actors face and threatening them with physical violence.
“This is healthy?” I ask. Jules laughs again.
“Its part of giving people chance to communicate what we call the shadow side of our personalities. By embracing that side of ourselves, we can start to grow as individuals.”
“How do you do that?”
“All of the people staying here get access to workbooks where they can track their mental health. By measuring emotions on a scale between 1-10, we can track how a client is doing and come up with an action plan to help them get better.”
“What about those who have mental health issues beyond depression and anxiety?” I ask. Jules laughs, looking puzzled momentarily.
“How do you mean?”
“Schizophrenia, psychosis, antisocial personality disorder, haltlose personality disorder, that sort of thing.”
“Well those sound a bit made up to me. The most common expression of all mental health issues is depression and anxiety.” says Jules. I shake my head.
“That’s not really true though, is it?” I say. Jules laughs. “Why do you keep laughing?”
“I just think you’re saying funny things.”
“Like what?”
“You’re questioning things like mental health isn’t somehow connected to depression and anxiety.”
“There’s more to it than just those two things.”
“No there’s not.”
“It is. I can prove it.” I say. Jules laughs, though cuts himself off.
“Go on then.” he says. I nod, opening the door to where
James Watt was having a roleplay.
I walk over to the bald man, tapping him on the shoulder. As he turns around I stick a syringe into his neck and push the stopper down.
“What are you doing!?” he yelps, clutching at his neck. The actor stands up, looking concerned. I take a step back and let the drugs take their toll on the brainscape of the multimillionaire. I had concocted the drugs myself, always carrying around a syringe of the substance should I need it. Jules has entered the room and is trying to calm James Watt.
“Don’t worry, you are only experiencing depression and anxiety.” he says, stroking James’ arm to try and calm him.
“I feel funny.” says James, staggering back, he tries to sit on a chair and misses, falling heavily on his arse. I check my watch.
“I have injected you with a cocktail of purified metals. Heavy metal poisoning has shown its capacity to create mania and psychosis in people. You can track the number of serial killers in America to the usage of lead in their pipes.” I explain. I had boiled the metals myself, skimming off the foam of chemicals that most directly correlated to impacting the brain through short circuiting the neural pathways. The very small amount of electrical current in the brain made it the most magnetic part of the body, and so the metals I had injected into the CEO would settle in the folds of his brain like ocean silt.
The effect this had on James was visible quite quickly. His limbs and hands began to spasm and curl up against him, he spluttered a scream out as he folded up onto the floor. His eyes began to roll back into his head and when he spoke, it was meaningless glossolalia. Jules knelt by him.
“Don’t worry, this is just depression and anxiety.” he says, trying to comfort the man as froth began to spill from his lips and nostrils. I kneel down next to them both and began reading from a book about cognitive behavioural therapy. The tremoring man begins to calm, his twisting muscles giving way to a more pliant, almost puddle-like form. I take out another syringe and inject him again.
“What’s that?” says Jules, looking at the syringe I had put into James, not seeing the second syringe in my other hand that went up to his neck.
“This is concentrated autism. I have synthesized it from the brains of hundreds of people exhibiting signs of autistic spectrum disorder. How do you feel now?” I ask. Both men sit up.
“Good.” Jules says. I nod, going over to a bookcase and leaning it over so all of the books fall out.
“Look, there’s one there about deep sea creatures. Do you want that?” I say, kicking one over. James Watt shakes his head. When he tries speaking he just grunts a few times from the back of his throat. I move the books around, finding a comic about Sonic the Hedgehog and throw it as hard as I can at his forehead.
As I leave the facility, I reflect back on my own journey with my brain. I don’t believe I have mental health issues, as that implies the differences in my brain are somehow weaknesses. No. Just as medicine lacks words for when a patient is feeling well, we also lack language for the opposite of mental health disorders. I had a freakishly strong mind, sometimes surprising myself with thoughts that would leap from the waters of my subconscious like winged dolphins.
I slam the car door. I take out another syringe, inject it
into an orange then eat the whole thing. It had been interesting seeing the
commodification of the treatment of mental health, when it seemed that many
causes of mental health issues stemmed from enforced poverty. Transnational
companies paying millions to consultants to develop mental wellness platforms
for employees. Guided breathing exercises for workers standing next to conveyer
belts packed with toxic metals. Team away days where colleagues would throw a
blow-up beachball to one another before going back to develop tactical weapons
used against unarmed Muslims. The orange is beginning to work. I drive down the
road, crossing the white lines, swerving round cars going in opposite
directions, the window is down, the music is turned up. I scream until I can
taste blood at the back of my throat. Car shoots through tunnels, leaps from
bumps in the road. I look in the rearview mirror and see Armitage Shanks has
finally rejoined me. We ride out into the night as if we had been ejected from hell for being worse than the devil.
