I like exercise. I’m no athlete, but I can get in a good workout when I feel like it. I walk or jog the 15 minutes to the gym, do 10 minutes on each machine, and then lift a few (very small) weights. If anything starts to hurt, I slow down. If I feel like stopping, I stop.

Sometimes I feel a sense of ease after the workout—a little swell of euphoric energy that carries me into the rest of the day. Other times? I don’t feel anything. I’m not happier. I’m not in a better headspace. I’m just sweaty.

Believe me, I’ve heard it plenty of times: Running around and getting your heart rate up causes a release of endorphins, which are those cool little feel-good chemicals in the brain. So it would make sense that someone like me—who deals with bouts of depression and anxiety—should just get on with it and exercise because it’s in my best interest, right?

I hate to break it to you, but exercising with a mental illness is more complicated than that. It’s also kind of a dick move to suggest physical activity to anyone and everyone with anxiety or depression as if it’s some panacea.

Even on the days when I feel mentally well enough to exercise, there’s no guarantee that working out is going to boost my mood. Of course, there is research that shows a correlation between exercising and reduced depressive symptoms for some people with depression—but that doesn't mean it's a clinically proven cure. Aside from that, being told that it will make me happier by people who don’t understand the constraints of a mental health issue is as ill-informed as it is annoying.

I go through days when working out simply isn’t in reach. I’m too fatigued and feeling too hopeless to do so much as open a curtain. Feelings of lethargy are common in people with mood disorders, and exercising when you’re feeling that low-energy can be as close to impossible as it gets. Asking us to transcend the symptoms of our illness and do something that isn’t currently within our reach is a patronizing strategy.

I recently went on a Twitter rant about this exact subject and received dozens of replies from people who are also tired of exercise being framed as the great secret to managing mood or anxiety disorders.

One person described the dilemma like this: “If you haven’t had depression, you also don’t get the idea of will paralysis. ‘Just do it, you’ll feel better!’ It’s true, but when the emptiness descends, the doing of the thing is overwhelming, and then I feel [like] sh*t for not trying.”

Others who joined my conversation touched on the reality that running outside or working out in a gym full of people can itself be a big anxiety trigger.

It’s easier said than done for people with mental health issues to just hit the pavement or brave a crowded workout class. Anxiety can set in by just being out in public, feeling exposed or vulnerable while jogging outdoors. It takes a lot of practice and courage to do that.

Gym environments may also exacerbate feelings of depression or anxiety. Fitness culture in general can be a very toxic and intimidating space, often populated by ableism and fat-shaming. People with mental health issues—who may also have disabilities or invisible illnesses, or have larger bodies—may find exercising in a public setting all the more off-putting.

For example, someone shared on my Twitter thread, “Oh how true this is! You're already anxious so go do something you're not good at in front of a tonne [sic] of people you don't know! No thanks.”