When Awareness Becomes Noise: A Personal Reflection on Mental Health Day

Every year on World Mental Health Day, my social feeds fills with posts from organisations, leaders, and brands sharing messages about the importance of looking after our mental wellbeing.

It’s great to see the topic getting attention, but I’ll be honest, this day always brings up mixed feelings for me.

As someone who works in mental health every day, I find myself torn between appreciation and unease. Appreciation that more people are talking about something that was once seen as taboo. Unease that, for some, it’s starting to feel more like a marketing opportunity than a moment of genuine reflection.

The Good: Awareness Still Matters

There’s no denying that awareness matters.Twenty years ago, conversations about mental health were rare. Now, we hear terms like burnout, anxiety, and resilience used in workplaces and on social media, and that shift has opened doors for people to seek support earlier and more openly.

So yes, I think World Mental Health Day still has an important role to play. It creates space for dialogue and reminds us to check in with ourselves and each other.

But awareness, on its own, is only the first step.

The Unease: When Awareness Becomes a Performance

In recent years, I’ve started to notice something that feels a little off.

Every awareness day my feed fills with corporate posts about how much companies care about wellbeing. And while some truly mean it, others feel… performative.

It feels a bit like “wellbeing washing” like “greenwashing”, but for mental health. It’s when mental health awareness is promoted outwardly, yet doesn’t match the internal reality.

I’ve seen this play out in subtle ways:Workplaces where employees are encouraged to “speak up,” but then quietly penalised for doing so. Environments that run wellbeing weeks but overlook everyday workload stress. Organisations that celebrate “self-care” but reward overwork.

And more recently, I’ve noticed the pattern extend further, a toxic workplace culture followed by a one-hour webinar on “bullying and harassment,” or a standalone wellbeing session to tick a box on a spreadsheet. Awareness isn’t the problem; it’s the lack of follow-through that undermines it.

What Real Support Looks Like

Real commitment to mental health doesn’t always make for an inspiring post. It often looks like listening, adjusting workloads, creating psychological safety, or supporting someone through a difficult time quietly and compassionately, without needing to broadcast it.

It’s the small, consistent actions that make the biggest difference. Leaders who ask “How are you?” and really mean it. Teams who make space for honesty, not just productivity. Workplaces where people can say “I’m not ok” without fear of judgement.

Those are the kinds of environments where wellbeing actually grows, not because someone said the right thing online, but because people feel cared for offline.

A Personal Reflection

In all the years I’ve worked in workplace wellbeing, as a therapist, trainer and consultant, I’ve seen both sides of this. I’ve worked with organisations deeply committed to genuine cultural change, and others still finding their way.

Awareness days do have value, they get people talking, which is a start. But perhaps they should also be an opportunity to pause and reflect, to take a step back and look at what’s really going on day-to-day.

Because awareness without action can quickly become performance. And true wellbeing isn’t something that happens once a year, it’s built in the quiet moments, in honest conversations, and in how people are treated when nobody’s watching.

If this post resonates with you, perhaps you’re feeling the strain of your own workplace, or noticing stress, exhaustion, or a sense of not quite feeling yourself, you don’t have to wait for an awareness day to reach out for support.

If you’d like to explore whether counselling could help, I’d be glad to hear from you.Hit the free consultation button to arrange an informal, no obligation telephone call with me.