Why We Self-Diagnose (It’s Not Because We’re Dramatic)

“Sebenernya kita udah pada gila, cuma mager keliling aja.”

This comment gets thousands of likes every time it shows up. Funny, sure. But think about it for a second — this isn’t really a joke. This is literally how a lot of people think about mental health.

And that’s the problem.

So, why do we self-diagnose?

Let me ask you something. When was the last time you Googled your symptoms before going to the doctor? Probably recently, right. Now imagine doing that, but the “doctor” part is almost inaccessible — too expensive, too far, or just… too scary to even consider.

That’s the reality for a lot of people when it comes to mental health, especially in Indonesia. We have around 800 psychiatrists for 270 million people — that’s 0.3 per 100,000, when the WHO recommends at least 1. Seven out of 38 provinces don’t even have a psychiatric hospital. And 91% of people with mental disorders here never receive any treatment at all.

So when people self-diagnose, it’s not because they think they’re smarter than professionals. It’s because the system doesn’t give them much of a choice.

The stigma that keeps people away

But even if the system was accessible, stigma would still keep a lot of people from showing up.

In Indonesia, going to a psychiatrist still carries this unspoken weight. There’s a reason people say “masuk RSJ” like it’s a threat. Mental illness isn’t seen as something you treat — it’s seen as something you hide. Families cover it up. People minimize it. And if you do seek help, you risk being seen as “that person.”

The vocabulary is everywhere: “lebay,” “baper,” “drama,” “cari perhatian.” And then there’s the one that hits differently — “kurang iman,” “kurang bersyukur.” That’s not just dismissal. That’s dismissal with moral weight attached. It’s not saying you’re weak. It’s saying you’re weak and spiritually lacking. That’s a different kind of heavy.

This isn’t just a cultural quirk. Studies quantify exactly how much stigma pushes people away from getting help. Structural barriers in the healthcare system reduce the likelihood of seeking mental health services by 52%. Family exclusion and internalized shame each reduce it by 47%. And when economic and psychological stigma combine, that number jumps to 59%. Every layer of stigma is another reason to not show up.

The comment problem

Which brings me back to that comment.

“Sebenernya kita udah pada gila, cuma mager keliling aja.”

A lot of people read this and think it’s relatable. Maybe even comforting — like, hey, we’re all struggling. But here’s the thing: telling someone their condition is just a more extreme version of what everyone feels isn’t empathy. It’s erasure.

And it’s more common than you’d think. A sentiment analysis of mental health conversations on Indonesian Twitter found that 50.8% of tweets were negative, 45.1% positive. Almost fifty-fifty. Which means the problem isn’t that everyone is dismissive — it’s that dismissal is normalized enough to compete equally with support. In the same comment section, you’ll find “kamu gak sendirian” right next to “lebay.”

There’s a difference between saying “I see you” and saying “I’m basically the same, so it can’t be that serious.” The second one doesn’t make people feel less alone. It makes them question whether what they’re going through is even real.

And when that doubt creeps in, seeking help feels even harder. Research on Indonesian mental health access found that fear of being labeled “crazy” by family or friends is one of the primary reasons people delay treatment — not lack of awareness, not lack of resources. Just the fear of what people will say.

Self-aware vs self-diagnosed

So where does self-diagnosis fit in all of this?

Here’s what I think people get wrong: self-diagnosis isn’t the problem. The problem is when it becomes the endpoint.

There’s a difference between self-awareness and self-diagnosis. Self-awareness is noticing something feels off — your mood, your patterns, your reactions. It’s thinking “this doesn’t feel normal” and sitting with that. Self-diagnosis is when you take that feeling, match it to a label, and stop there.

The first one is actually useful. Research shows that when people identify patterns in their experiences that align with a specific condition, it gives them both the motivation and the language to start a conversation with a professional. Self-awareness becomes a bridge, not a diagnosis.

And we need more of that first step. Over 20 million people in Indonesia are living with symptoms of depression or anxiety. Around 85% of them never get professional help — not because they don’t know mental health is real, but because something stops them before they ever make it to an appointment. Awareness has grown. Behavior hasn’t caught up yet.

The issue is when the label becomes a substitute for actual help. When “I have anxiety” becomes a reason not to go to therapy, instead of a reason to go.

So what now?

I’m not here to tell you to stop Googling your symptoms. I’m not here to say self-diagnosis is always wrong, or that you need a professional’s permission to understand your own experience.

What I’m saying is: use it as a starting point, not a destination.

If something feels off, that feeling is valid. The fact that you noticed it matters. But a label you found online at 2am isn’t the full picture — and you deserve more than a partial picture.

The system is broken, the stigma is real, and getting help is genuinely hard. But “hard” and “impossible” aren’t the same thing. And you’re not dramatic for trying.