The most recommended mental disorder books

I rarely encounter writing that deals so unflinchingly with the darkest aspects of human nature in such a beautifully nuanced way. This book does not shy away from heavy, even transgressive themes, including mental illness, parental negligence, sexual predation, and grooming.

It centers around teenage sisters Edie and Mae, who are sent to stay with their estranged father after their mother’s failed suicide attempt—but their close alliance fractures due to their separate fixations on each parent. Told from multiple POVs, I found the novel’s structure as intricately woven as a spider’s web. The final act, which leaps ahead fifteen years, is an absolute stunner. 

Guy left his demons in England and set out on a pilgrimage. After mental health issues and a year of being afraid to leave his home, Guy re-entered the world by trekking through 10 countries in 10 months, hoping the journey would heal him. He traveled down ancient paths through changing landscapes, and the charity of everyday strangers kept him and his hope alive.

He finally arrived in Jerusalem, and though neither his physical nor emotional journey ended in the climax he’d hoped, he’d gained understanding. I’ve experienced the clarity that can come with putting physical distance between you and your issues, and though they say not to run away from your problems, sometimes a really long walk can actually help.

This is another novel written expressly for teenagers, and all the better for it.

Inflected by the author’s own autobiographical experiences—like Craig, the novel’s narrator, Vizzini spent a week in a psychiatric hospital as a teenager—It’s Kind of a Funny Story was the first work of fiction I’d read that articulated the adolescent experience through the language of mental health. It was here that I learned “depression” isn’t an abstracted emotion but the very real neurochemical imbalance that impels Craig to call the suicide hotline after abandoning his SSRIs.

There’s an uncanny familiarity to the circumstances of Craig’s breakdown—namely in how he struggles to remain above water at a famously rigorous college preparatory high school—and a fundamental earnestness to his story’s confessions that gilds even its grimmest moments with a fifteen-year-old's sense of impressionable wonder.

Who knew a book about sleeping could be so funny and engaging?

As someone who constantly wants and needs more rest, I related to the protagonist’s hunch that a year of (almost uninterrupted) sleep would change her life. And it does, though not at all in the way she expects.

Moshfegh writes about trips to the local bodega and the edgy conceptual art scene in such a brilliant way that the book will (perhaps, unfortunately!) keep you up late.

This is a lesser-known book, and I wish more teens had it in their library. There is no shirking behind any kind of veil or safety as Vincent weaves his way through his suicidal ideations, finds friendships, and navigates his health back to safety. This is a quiet novel that’s brutally honest about how one continues on when they’re not sure why they should.

Bonus for animal lovers as Vincent spends a lot of time at the local animal shelter.

As you probably deduced from the title, this book focuses on schizophrenia, not bipolar disorder. But it is the best mental health memoir I’ve ever read. I keep multiple copies so I can hand them out to my friends. Esmé Weijun Wang is a beautiful writer, and the book contains deep, insightful reflections on the weight of stigma and the nature of a psychiatric diagnosis.

This next book is gritty in its authenticity. It isn’t for the faint of heart to read about the heartbreaking struggles of thirteen-year-old Anna Collette whose mother tries to take her life and is hospitalized. Anna has to live with her distant father, his new wife, and their baby where she doesn’t feel like part of the family. But the author gives us a warm and loving character in her stepmother who shows Della what family can be. I’m enthralled by true and complex characters in this book who represent the highs and lows of real life.

I met this author at a local author fair and picked up a copy of his book because he (as well as me!) is a Beatles fan. He said it included poems about the Beatles so I hoped I’d enjoy the book as much as I enjoyed chatting with Ryan. Turned out, I did. Ryan approaches poetry with a powerful mix of wordplay and rhythm. Every poem has a driving beat and becomes a sort of immersive experience. Although this also deals with themes of mental illness, it’s a book that just made me smile to read because it’s so unique. The illustrations make it visually stunning as well.

I had the privilege of hearing Michelle Thomas speak about her life at a Literary Review in July this year. She is one of the funniest and most natural people I have listened to.

I love her attitude to the mental ill health she experiences. She uses the term "my shit diagnosis" and "my shit love life" in the chapters of her book as she shares her story.

In my early days of social work, some 28 years ago, I worked in both hospital and community mental health teams, so know what Michelle shares is authentic; and sadly true of how services continue to fail people with mental ill health.

Michelle dresses in vibrant colours reflecting her wonderful personality, and her style of writing is very amusing bringing humour to what would otherwise be a heavy and difficult subject. I think we all need to hear more from Michelle.

This classic account by a renowned sociologist is critical reading for those interested in the anti-psychiatry movement, a crusade that viewed psychiatry as more coercive than therapeutic and, in some cases, questioned the reality of mental illness itself. For one year, Goffman embedded himself in St. Elizabeth’s mental hospital in Washington, DC, where he ultimately concluded that the defining features of the asylum – similar to those of prisons and other “total institutions” – did more to shape the patient’s behavior than the supposed illness for which the patient had been admitted in the first place. Goffman’s observations left a significant impact on popular ideas about asylum care and helped contribute to widespread deinstitutionalization several decades later.