The new language of mental health online: from ‘energy coins’ to research you can actually understand

coin in tha hand

You’re scrolling at 2 AM and stumble across someone explaining their depression using… coins? Or you’re trying to understand a study about “gender typicality and peer relations” because it keeps popping up in your feed, but the abstract reads like it was written in another language. Welcome to the internet’s messy, beautiful attempt at talking about mental health.

Here’s the thing: we’re all becoming amateur psychologists, piecing together metaphors from fantasy authors and research papers we barely understand. But somewhere between Brandon Sanderson’s fictional magic systems and actual peer-reviewed science, there’s a translation problem. Let’s fix that.

Why we’re speaking in metaphors now

Brandon Sanderson never set out to become a mental health educator. He’s a fantasy novelist. But when he described mental energy as “coins” you spend throughout the day, people with depression and chronic illness felt seen for the first time.

The metaphor works like this: everyone wakes up with a certain number of coins. Neurotypical people might have 20. Someone with depression might have 5. Brushing your teeth costs 1 coin. Going to work costs 3. A difficult conversation costs 2. By noon, you’re broke.

Sound familiar? You’ve probably also heard of “spoon theory” (coined by Christine Miserandus in 2003), where spoons represent units of energy. Both metaphors do the same job: they make invisible disabilities visible. They give you language to say “I’m out of coins” instead of “I’m lazy” or “I don’t care.”

Why this matters: Metaphors aren’t dumbing down mental health—they’re democratizing it. When clinical language fails us (“executive dysfunction” doesn’t hit the same as “my brain forgot how to start tasks”), we invent our own.

Decoding the research you’re actually curious about

Let’s talk about that study you saw referenced: something about gender typicality, peer relations, and mental health. You clicked because the headline promised answers, but the PDF was 40 pages of statistical models.

Here’s what that research typically examines: How well you “fit” gender expectations in childhood (do you like activities, clothes, and behaviors associated with your assigned gender?) and whether that affects your friendships and mental health. The findings? It’s complicated—and context-dependent.

Some studies show kids who don’t conform to gender norms face more bullying and social rejection, which increases anxiety and depression risk. Other research shows that supportive environments buffer these effects entirely. The takeaway isn’t “you must conform.” It’s “belonging and acceptance matter more than fitting a mold.”

But you’d never get that from reading the abstract, which probably says something like “cross-sectional analysis reveals bidirectional associations between gender-typed behavior and internalizing symptoms moderated by peer acceptance.” See the problem?

Translation tip: When you see research jargon, ask yourself three questions:

  • What problem were they trying to solve?
  • Who did they study, and for how long?
  • What did they actually find (not what the headline claims)?

Most studies are narrower and messier than the Instagram infographic suggests.

How to actually track sources (without losing your mind)

You’ve seen “MyBib” trending because people are finally trying to cite their sources when they share mental health information. Good. But let’s be honest—most of us don’t know how to use citation tools properly.

MyBib is a free citation generator that formats your references in APA, MLA, or Chicago style. Here’s how to use it right:

  1. Don’t just paste a URL. Look for the actual study or article. If it’s behind a paywall, check Google Scholar or ResearchGate for free versions.
  2. Verify the source type. Is it a peer-reviewed journal article, a blog post, or a tweet thread? MyBib will format them differently.
  3. Keep a running list. Mental health rabbit holes go deep. Save your sources as you go instead of trying to remember them later.

Why bother? Because citing sources isn’t performative—it’s ethical. If you’re sharing information that could affect how someone understands their own mental health, they deserve to know where it came from.

Spotting trustworthy information in a sea of infographics

Not all mental health content is created equal. Some is life-changing. Some is actively harmful. Here’s your filter:

Red flags:

  • Promises a “cure” for complex conditions
  • Uses shame or fear to motivate you (“10 signs you’re a narcissist!”)
  • Oversimplifies research (no nuance, no caveats)
  • Sells you something at the end

Green flags:

  • Acknowledges limitations (“this worked for me, but YMMV”)
  • Cites actual sources (and you can verify them)
  • Includes multiple perspectives (therapy, medication, lifestyle changes)
  • Written or reviewed by people with relevant credentials and lived experience

The best content holds both: the science and the story. It explains the mechanism without erasing the messy, human reality.

Where to go when you’re ready to go deeper

If this article resonated, you’re ready for better sources. Here’s where to start:

Books: “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk (trauma), “Lost Connections” by Johann Hari (depression’s root causes), “How to Keep House While Drowning” by KC Davis (shame-free productivity).

Podcasts: Huberman Lab (neuroscience made accessible), Terrible, Thanks for Asking (grief and hard topics), The Hilarious World of Depression (comedians discuss mental illness).

Talks: Search YouTube for “Dr. Laurie Santos Yale happiness,” “Andrew Solomon TED depression,” or “Brené Brown vulnerability.”

Pro tip: Start with one. Don’t overwhelm yourself trying to consume everything at once. That’s the opposite of mental health.

The real translation we need

Mental health literacy isn’t about memorizing DSM criteria or reading every study. It’s about building a shared language that’s both accurate and human. It’s about knowing when a metaphor serves you and when you need hard science. It’s about asking better questions and finding trustworthy people to answer them.

You don’t need a degree to understand your own mind. But you do need better tools than a 3 AM doomscroll and a viral infographic. Start here. Follow the sources. Trust yourself to learn.

And maybe—just maybe—spend one of your coins on this instead of doomscrolling. You’ve got this.

Scroll to Top