It’s so easy to feel lost, wandering through life, wondering if things will ever change. Wondering if they’ll ever get better or if you’ll just be stuck in the same cycle. It’s so easy to feel addicted to that anxious feeling that crawls underneath your skin, the battle you have to fight every day. You often tuck away the worst parts of yourself, hoping that will make it better, but all it really does is fester. That dark side is you, and it’s waiting to be accepted. Only then will you be whole. It may sound silly, but I didn’t learn this lesson from a profound documentary or film; I learned it from the anime Mob Psycho 100.

The anime focuses on Shigeo Kageyama, an awkward middle schooler nicknamed Mob, who was born with psychic powers. This includes everything from communicating with and exorcising ghosts to levitation. For the longest time, Shigeo was the only one of his kind. When others found out about his powers, he would be misunderstood as freaky or weird. 

It’s quite unfortunate because he’s an extremely friendly, empathetic kid. His emotionless exterior doesn’t help when it comes to the misunderstandings, though. This is a byproduct of Mob’s struggle to express his emotions. He often suppresses them entirely until they boil over, reaching their maximum of 100%. This sends him into episodes where both his emotions and powers become uncontrollable, resulting in several violent incidents throughout his life.     

One of these defining incidents happened when he was in elementary school. Older kids were harassing his younger brother, Ritsu, and him on the way home, sending Shigeo into one of these episodes. But when he became conscious again, both the bullies and his younger brother had been injured in the process. It’s an event he’s never fully recovered from mentally. All these years later, he still feels extremely guilty and upset at himself for hurting someone he loves. Just the idea that he was capable of such a thing was enough for him to refuse to use his powers. To the best of his ability, he vowed to “mask” as if he were like everyone else until he found a job where his powers could be used for good. 

Shigeo, in all forms of the word, is being exploited, but that comes with the territory of being a naive kid. He works under Reigen Arataka, who he calls “master” and believes is a psychic just like him. Reigen is not. He’s an average person who is an exceptional con artist. Shigeo is paid below minimum wage and overworked incessantly, often called randomly without notice. But weirdly enough, this job allows him to reframe how he views his powers. They are no longer just associated with a bad episode, but have become a vehicle to help people. He not only has a hand in saving the living but is also a bridge between the dead as he exorcises evil spirits and lays them to rest. 

He is unique, whether he recognizes it or not. He’s exceptionally strong, abnormally kind, and has a perspective on the world like no other. This part of him that he suppresses and views as a burden also has value. 

Through my own personal journey with therapy for the past two years, I’ve learned a lot about dialectical thinking, or allowing yourself to see different perspectives of situations or yourself. Watching Mob Psycho, I unexpectedly saw myself more clearly through Shigeo. Someone who suppresses their emotions and tucks away the parts of themselves they think others will reject. But by doing that, it often has the opposite effect. Those emotions of self-hatred, anger, and sadness boil up to a point where they become uncontrollable. With Shigeo’s story, I saw an answer to this cycle I was stuck in, as he goes on a journey of accepting the “darker” sides of himself. This story may be wrapped in the guise of a silly anime, but in reality, it’s one of the most well-written examples of the struggles of neurodivergence. 

The show is really great at showing the good and bad of it all. There are really charming, funny moments when Shigeo is a bit too naive and impulsive for his own good. I find the moments when he’s trying desperately to live a regular life the most captivating to watch. He ends up way over his head when he joins the Body Improvement Club and is too out of shape to keep up with the rest of them. There are crushes, embarrassing moments, and ones of grand delusion, like the episode where Shigeo gets a really big head after noticing a bunch of girls are constantly looking his way. He’s drawn in some shots with this really “Chad” face to reflect his newfound confidence. Watching that, I longed to be as delusional as my king, Mob.

 Using psychic powers as a point of difference is an exceptional vehicle for the message as well. While there can be comical moments, oftentimes, neurodivergence can feel incredibly isolating. It can be difficult to relate to others' experiences. Things like struggles with social cues and sensory experiences, which stretch across multiple disorders, all the way from anxiety to autism and OCD, can cause loneliness, especially from a lack of accommodations or the perceptions from others, and how they interact with us. 

We see Shigeo go through both. There are times when others reject this difference of his, and times when people can recognize his good character beyond his blank stare. His first crush developed in elementary school from this very experience. A girl named Tsubomi was the first person to accept his differences. Experiences of true acceptance, since they are so rare, can be so profound. 

The last three episodes of the series are the most impactful. Shigeo finally works himself up to confessing to Tsubomi. He finds the courage to call her to make plans and buys flowers, but on the walk there, he sees a car about to hit a young child. Shigeo pushes him out of the way to save him, but gets hit in the process. The accident triggered an extremely violent episode where Shigeo uncontrollably destroyed the whole town.

Several people, including his brother Ritsu and other frenemies of the past, tried to stop him. But Shigeo was like a natural disaster; everything and everyone in his path was collateral. He was unstoppable. His master, Reigen, was the last person to try to help him. Shigeo’s inner self feared he wouldn’t accept him in this form – that he would fear him like everyone else. But Reigen had a unique approach to the problem: he told the truth. He confessed to lying about being a psychic and apologized for exploiting him. Reigen broke every negative expectation Shigeo had.

This moment is one of the best illustrations of a mental health episode. They come at the worst times possible, anything can trigger them, and they almost work like a natural disaster. Your emotions are so heightened that you're willing to hurt even those you love.  When you’re in the storm, it can feel like it will never end, like this is the last stop. 

But at the end of that natural disaster, the sun comes out. Shigeo needs that moment to finally accept and heal that part of himself he’s always rejected. With the help of his brother, Ritsu, and his master, Reigen, he recognizes the only way he can move forward from his past mistakes is to forgive himself. To accept that these episodes are a part of him. Neither side of himself is bad or good; it just is. 

I’ve found that accepting myself is the hardest battle ever, but forgiving myself is sometimes even harder. I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression virtually all of my life, and there’s a lot of shame that comes with having disorders. You can be afraid to ask for help or be paranoid that others will find your presence burdensome. There have been a lot of times in my college experience where I’ve had very public panic attacks, and the shame from that perceived weakness only worsens the impact. It’s easy to get trapped in this cycle of fearing a lack of acceptance, so you, in turn, mask or tamper with yourself for others until you reach your limit.

I think what Mob Psycho 100 teaches throughout the anime is that none of us can get through anything alone. We need people that we can lean on sometimes, to get to a place where we can lean on ourselves. No battle was meant to be fought alone, and that includes the battle many of us fight every day inside. People you can trust may be rare, but that’s why you should treasure them even more. There’s no shame in who you are, no matter how odd or different you may feel. That dark side is no better than any other part of you, and it’s waiting to be accepted with open arms.