I See You Trying to Understand Yourself. But Please, Don’t Stop at Google.

I once walked into a hospital to meet my general physician and saw a poster in the waiting room that read:

"Please do not confuse your Google search with my medical degree."

It was witty, sharp, and honestly, fair.

But it also made me pause. Because I’ve been that person too. The one searching up symptoms at midnight, watching videos about trauma responses, scrolling through checklists of disorders to see which one fits. And as a therapist, I’ve had clients walk into my space, telling me within the first few minutes that they’ve figured it out - “I have OCD,” “It’s definitely ADHD,” or “This is anxiety, I know it.”

At first, I would feel a little torn. A part of me wanted to gently correct them. Another part knew exactly why they had done it. So, I never felt the need to put up a sign about Google searches in my therapy space.

Instead, I began to ask: Why are so many of us self-diagnosing?

And the answer is layered.

Sometimes, self-diagnosis is about naming the pain. When we feel confused, overwhelmed, or invisible, putting a label on our experience can offer temporary relief. It tells us we’re not imagining things. That what we’re going through has a name, and if it has a name, maybe it has a way out too.

Sometimes, it’s about feeling seen. There’s comfort in reading stories or watching videos of people who sound just like you. It creates a sense of belonging. It can even be the first step toward seeking help.

And sometimes, it’s because access to professional mental health care is difficult - expensive, intimidating, or simply unavailable. In a system that often fails to meet people where they are, people take the tools they have. And often, that tool is the internet.

So yes, I understand why people self-diagnose. But here’s the truth: It isn’t safe.

Because self-diagnosis can lead to misdiagnosis. You might see yourself in one story and completely miss the deeper context. You might overlook something crucial, or begin to believe you have something you don’t.

It can lead to self-treatment, which can be even riskier - taking advice that isn’t tailored to you, trying out therapies or medications without guidance, and holding on to false hope or deepening disappointment when things don’t work.

It can also lead to over-identification. When we latch onto a label too quickly, we might start viewing ourselves only through that lens. Every feeling becomes a symptom. Every thought, a red flag. We lose sight of nuance. Of context. Of who we are outside the diagnosis.

Mental health professionals go through years of training to learn how to assess, hold, and understand the full picture of a person’s emotional world. Not because they have all the answers, but because these things are complex. And when done well, diagnosis is not a label, it’s a conversation.

So where does that leave us?

It means we need to hold both truths at once:

That self-diagnosis is risky and often incomplete.

And that the urge to self-diagnose is valid and human.

People are trying to understand themselves. That deserves openness, not dismissal.

So, no! I don’t have that poster in my room.

But here’s the message I do hold:

“You don’t need to have it all figured out before you walk in. Let’s make sense of it together.”

Because at the heart of it, people aren’t looking for labels. They’re looking to be seen, understood, and heard.

And that is always a conversation worth having.