Mental health is too often reduced to oversimplified trends, and it’s harming those who suffer the most. Recently, I came across a video by a well-known Indian-American gastroenterologist-turned-YouTuber, boasting 3.6 million followers, who ventured far beyond his expertise to discuss OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder). While his attempt to shed light on the condition was commendable, it was painfully evident that he lacked a deep understanding of the profound suffering OCD inflicts. Having witnessed patients battle this disorder—their struggles moving me to tears and awe—I know firsthand that OCD is not just a set of diagnostic criteria; it’s an unimaginable reality.
Watching these complex struggles reduced to a light-hearted skit was deeply unsettling. Even more disheartening was the flood of comments from viewers suddenly convinced they, too, had OCD. This reminded me of the TikTok-fueled trend of self-diagnosing tics and Tourette’s syndrome—performative, misleading, and ultimately harmful.
But here’s where it gets controversial: the video claimed that while selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) can treat OCD, prioritizing serotonin-rich foods like tofu and nuts is more important. The glaring oversight? Serotonin from food remains in the gut, unable to cross the blood-brain barrier. Yes, the gut produces 90% of the body’s serotonin, but consuming it doesn’t translate to happier brains or effective treatment for a complex neuropsychiatric condition.
And this is the part most people miss: Tryptophan, a serotonin precursor found in foods like tofu and nuts, can cross the blood-brain barrier. But even this doesn’t transform food into a psychiatric cure. Neurotransmitters don’t work that way. It’s like suggesting eating animal adrenal glands to treat a noradrenaline deficiency—a flawed analogy at best.
Psychiatry, like any medical specialty, is a highly specialized field. We don’t expect cardiologists to perform brain surgery, so why do we allow non-experts to make sweeping claims about mental health? Once called alienists and now sometimes shrinks, psychiatrists operate in one of medicine’s youngest and most misunderstood branches—yet it’s also one of the most transformative fields of the past century.
From forensic psychiatry, which bridges medicine and justice, to lesser-known subspecialties like Psychiatry in Learning Disability, our work spans behavioral science, neurology, advocacy, and more. We treat patients from age five to end-of-life, unraveling the mysteries of the mind and easing suffering caused by broken neural circuits.
Being a psychiatrist is no easy feat. One day we’re pharmacologists, the next therapists, advocates, or the last line of defense for those trapped in a broken system. Yet, we’re constantly misunderstood. Even within healthcare, people confuse psychiatrists with psychologists or equate psychiatry with counseling. For the record: trichotillomania, a psychiatric condition, requires a psychiatrist’s expertise, not just counseling.
We sit with patients in their darkest moments, bearing witness to their pain and resilience. So when OCD is reduced to quips and food lists, it’s not just an insult to our profession—it trivializes the suffering of those we care for.
We wear many hats, but behind each is a single hope: that people with mental illness are seen, not simplified.
But here’s the question I leave you with: In an age of viral trends and self-diagnosis, how can we ensure mental health is treated with the complexity and respect it deserves? Share your thoughts below—I’m eager to hear your perspective.
The author is a psychiatrist. This is the personal opinion of the writer and does not necessarily represent the views of CodeBlue.
