Mood Swings and Headlines: A Mental-Health Moment - August 25, 2025

I spilled my coffee on my shirt this morning, and for a solid three minutes, it felt like a metaphor for life in 2025: a little messy, sometimes too hot to handle, and almost always inconvenient right before you have to look presentable on Zoom. If nothing else, coffee stains remind us that imperfection is unavoidable. And if you squint at it long enough, sometimes the blotch even looks like a Rorschach test (mine today? A raccoon wearing roller skates, if you’re curious).

As it turns out, this week’s headlines aren’t so different: messy, emotionally charged, sometimes frightening, sometimes funny, but always asking us to take stock of how our mental health weaves into daily life. Today, I want to unpack some of the stories making waves—from Australia’s youngest senator talking openly about depression, to Marc Maron cracking jokes about anxiety, to the growing concern that people are falling a little too in love with their chatbots. And yes, we’ll laugh a little along the way, because humor remains one of our best tools for sanity in an age where the world often feels like it’s running on autoplay.

When a 21-Year-Old Senator Gets Real about Depression (and Cats)

Australia just made history: Charlotte Walker, a 21-year-old, became the youngest senator to take the floor. But instead of launching into dry political jargon, she used her moment to talk about mental health. She shared her story of depression, bullying, and misogyny—and admitted she once told a “white lie” about adopting a cat just to dodge her mother’s guilt trips. Her candor was striking not only because it humanized her, but because it reframed politics as a space where vulnerability might actually matter.

For those of us who often feel like politicians are aliens in expensive suits, this moment was refreshingly human. Depression, self-doubt, and even little fibs about cats—these are the things that ground us in real life. Walker pledged to prioritize youth mental health, domestic violence prevention, and housing affordability. And while the internet was predictably divided (some calling her brave, others calling her “too emotional”), the bigger truth remains: sharing our stories is still one of the best ways to strip stigma down to size.

Lesson? Vulnerability in leadership isn’t weakness—it’s leadership turned inside out. And frankly, I’d vote for Gerald the Cat, too.

Frankie Bridge Isn’t OK, and That’s OK to Say

Across the globe, singer and TV personality Frankie Bridge reminded us of another truth: sometimes you wake up and the heaviness of depression convinces you that you’re “a worthless waste of space.” Her tearful videos from bed struck a chord not because of celebrity drama, but because of their rawness. In the age of curated Instagram perfection, Bridge gave us something else—authentic vulnerability.

She also praised her workplace for supporting her struggles, which is a reminder that mental health policies at work aren’t just nice to have—they’re lifelines. It’s hard enough to face depression without also worrying about HR emails or passive-aggressive Slack messages.

Her message to fans was simple: being honest about not being OK doesn’t make you weak; it makes you relatable. And let’s be real—sometimes the bravest thing you can do is post from under your blanket fortress.

Campus Panic: When “That Could Have Been Real” Breaks You

Meanwhile, American college students are carrying a different kind of emotional baggage. Both Villanova University and University of South Carolina faced false active shooter alerts that sparked terror before being cleared. While technically “nothing happened,” the psychological toll of these false alarms is enormous.

Here’s why: when your body believes you’re in danger, it doesn’t care if it’s a mistake. The cortisol floods in, your fight-or-flight system activates, and trust in your environment gets shaken. Students described panic, confusion, and an unnerving sense that the systems designed to protect them had instead betrayed them.

In a country where real school shootings are far too common, “cry wolf” alarms carry a double punch: they heighten trauma and erode trust. And when safety feels unreliable, anxiety festers. For some, it may lead to long-term hypervigilance—the mental health equivalent of never taking your shoes off, even in your own home.

Lesson? Even when the threat isn’t real, the fear absolutely is.

Marc Maron, Existential Anxiety, and the Comedy Cure

If panic and depression are heavy, Marc Maron offers some comic relief. At 61, the iconic comedian and WTF podcast host is starring in a new documentary called Anxiety Club—a fitting title given his lifelong tango with existential dread.

Maron mused recently that while age and money eased some of his anxiety, he’s still left asking: Why am I not enjoying myself? That’s a question most of us can relate to—even when things look good on paper, our mental health doesn’t always cooperate.

The beauty of comedians like Maron is their ability to alchemize pain into punchlines. Humor doesn’t cure anxiety, but it reframes it. Laughing at absurdity is like shining a flashlight into the dark—suddenly, the shadows shrink. And sometimes, that’s enough to make life bearable.

Pro tip: if you haven’t belly-laughed in a while, go find something ridiculous. Whether it’s cat memes, TikTok fails, or Maron musing about mortality, your nervous system will thank you.

AI Psychosis: When Chatbots Become Your BFF

Now, here’s where things get…weird. Reports are surfacing about “AI psychosis”—cases where people become delusional or emotionally over-attached to chatbots like ChatGPT.

On one hand, it’s easy to joke about (“My bot understands me better than my ex ever did!”). On the other, it’s a serious mental health issue. Some individuals are blurring the lines between digital companionship and real human connection, with outcomes ranging from obsession to paranoia. Experts are urging caution, and tech companies are adding safety rails like session reminders and mental health prompts.

This raises tough questions: When is AI support helpful, and when is it harmful? At what point does comfort become dependency?

Here’s the thing—technology can help, but it can’t hug you, it can’t sit silently with you in grief, and it certainly can’t pass the chips during movie night. (Unless you’ve invented a robot arm attachment, in which case: congrats, and also, maybe rethink.)

The reminder? Lean on tech if it helps, but don’t forget: the best Wi-Fi signal is still human connection.

Some Hope: Teen Suicidal Thoughts Are Declining

Not all news is grim. A recent SAMHSA report shows that suicidal ideation among U.S. teens has dropped from 13% in 2021 to about 10% in 2024. Suicide attempts have also decreased. It’s a small but meaningful win in a landscape often painted in hopeless colors.

This doesn’t mean the crisis is over. Marginalized youth and underserved communities still face disproportionate risks. But the decline proves that efforts—whether through school programs, expanded telehealth, or the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline—are making a difference.

Progress in mental health often feels glacial. But even small steps matter. It’s like finding a half-melted pint of ice cream in the freezer: it’s not perfect, but it’s still good news.

Climate Anxiety: A Fire We Can’t Put Out with a Garden Hose

Finally, the world is literally on fire. Floods, wildfires, hurricanes—it’s no wonder climate anxiety has become a mental health issue all its own. A recent report highlights how climate change isn’t just about ecosystems; it’s about emotional systems, too. The people most affected—low-income communities, Indigenous populations, those living in disaster-prone areas—often lack resources to cope.

Here’s the tricky part: you can’t meditate the ozone layer back together. Climate anxiety requires a balance of action and acceptance. Plant trees, recycle, vote for sustainability policies—but also acknowledge your limits. Your individual worth isn’t measured by whether you remembered your reusable straw this morning.

What helps most? Community. Studies show that collective action not only benefits the planet but also strengthens mental health. It reminds us we’re not facing the apocalypse alone. And if nothing else, it gives you someone to share sunscreen with.

Why Humor Still Matters

All of this—the politics, the panic, the tech, the trauma—proves one thing: our mental health is entangled with the world’s chaos. But amid it all, humor remains our duct tape.

Research shows laughter lowers stress hormones, boosts immunity, and even eases physical pain. More importantly, it reconnects us with joy. A silly meme can’t fix systemic issues, but it can shift your brain chemistry long enough to breathe again.

So yes, laugh at the absurd. Meme your feelings. Dance badly in your kitchen. Humor doesn’t erase pain, but it gives you a softer seat to rest on while you carry it.

Closing Thoughts

Today’s mental health headlines reflect the paradox of being alive in 2025: stories of vulnerability, fear, resilience, and absurdity all rolled into one. A 21-year-old senator admits to lying about a cat, Frankie Bridge cries on Instagram, college students panic at false alarms, Marc Maron wonders why he still isn’t happy, teens are (slowly) doing better, and some people are falling head over heels for their chatbots. Oh, and the planet is still melting.

Through it all, one lesson rings clear: you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. You’re allowed to laugh in the middle of tears. And you’re allowed to take your mental health as seriously—or as humorously—as you need.

Because at the end of the day, healing doesn’t come from pretending everything’s fine. It comes from saying, “This is hard,” and still finding a way to live, love, and maybe laugh about raccoons on roller skates.

—Dr. Michael Ritchey is a Doctor of Social Work and Licensed Clinical Social Worker specializing in trauma, veteran mental health, and reintegration support. Follow @DrMichaelRitchey for more content on mental health, healing, and justice.