Jungian analysts have called it the “swampland of the soul”. Other psychotherapy writers have observed how it originally served to keep us safe; the tendency to shame has been a universal one in which our desire to hide our flaws from others has saved us from being kicked out of the group (the society), which evolutionarily would have meant death (Sholl, 2013). So which is it? Is shame totally pathological, or is it ever helpful to us? And how shall we deal with it in the therapy session, especially when we are faced with a highly self-critical or otherwise shame-prone client?

In a recent blog post we defined shame and provided examples of it, differentiating it from similar emotions. In this follow-up article, we identify the signs and symptoms that a client is experiencing shame, review the dynamics and states of mind relevant to it, and explore ways to build shame resilience – a capacity to deal with potentially shame-triggering incidents – in clients.

How you can identify it in the therapy room

First, let’s make sure that you are, indeed, able to spot this elusive and dark emotion. As we noted in the earlier piece, the salient characteristic of shame is that, paradoxically, it is hidden. People can experience a deep-seated shame for years that even close associates do not recognise. So how, on perhaps only a few minutes of therapeutic association, do we? The first complication of many on this topic is that shame is ubiquitous in the therapy room. This is true for three reasons: (1) nearly all clients will be experiencing some form of it; (2) clients are also likely to feel shamed merely because of the stigma associated with seeking mental health help; and (3) finally, we as therapists must acknowledge that we have our own places of shame, which in the exchange of transferences that is psychotherapy, inevitably manifest in our interactions with clients.

Physical and emotional symptoms of shame

Dearing and Tangney (2011), in drawing together the threads of multiple master clinicians’ observations on the topic, noted that therapists consistently commented on the physical and/or emotional withdrawal of clients experiencing shame. This could be seen in decreased eye contact, slumped or rigid posture, avoidance of “here and now” material, freezing, stammering, tightened voice, self-deprecating comments possibly expanding into hilarious monologues, and a micro-flash of irritation before apology for missing a session or failing to do an assigned homework. Downcast eyes, squirming in the seat, laughter covering embarrassment, and indications that a topic is somehow degrading were all nominated as signs of shame. Some therapists noted that their shamed clients tended to go blank; manifest submissive, crouched body postures; avoid topics (as in talking “around” them); become anxious or angry; or directly refuse to divulge relevant clinical material (Dearing & Tangney, 2011).

The “hidden” demonstrations of shame

As obvious as the above signs would seem to be, a common observation is that shame is easily overlooked in the therapy room. It is an emotion that clients wish to hide because they feel ashamed of having shame, and we as therapists may collude with that, partly because of our own areas of felt shame. Beyond that, though, client shame is frequently disguised by other emotions: anger and rage, envy, contempt, and expressions of grandiosity, as clients “wear” several subtypes of narcissism in order to hide their vulnerable, shamed self. Paralinguistic cues can include confusion of thought, hesitation, soft speech, mumbling, silence, long pauses, rapid speech, or tensely laughed words. Therapists not trained to recognise it can easily miss these many, more hidden, faces of shame (Dearing & Tangney, 2011).

Shame-related states of mind in session

When in a typical shameful state of mind, an individual has a sense of an exposed, vulnerable, devalued self being scrutinised and found wanting in the eyes of a devaluing other. Acute shame may be experienced as an overwhelming pang of secret discomfort associated with communication that explicitly or implicitly conveys themes of inferiority. Extremely shame-prone clients suffer from persistent, oppressive appraisal processes in which all interactions (including those with you in session) are rigidly assessed in accord with the degree of perceived criticism, judgment, or humiliation experienced. This has been likened to a computer application program which, whether running inconspicuously in the background or more saliently in the foreground, is nevertheless always present at any given moment, never completely disengaged. It can be triggered into the foreground (primary operation) by myriad interpersonal events or by internal processes such as memories, fantasies, and reactions to internal states of arousal, such as sexual excitement, rage, or even exhibitionistic urges (Zaslav, 1998).

The defences a client chooses to engage as a result of the shame may vary widely. Narcissistic clients, for example, may ward off shameful schemas about self through grandiose, inflated self-regard in the (imagined) presence of an admiring audience. But upon perceiving a lack of sufficient support or attention from the psychotherapist, the same narcissist may experience other shame-related states, such as painful emptiness or of being a “nothing”. Volatile expressions of anger can result for shame-prone clients experiencing bitter, resentful feelings of being unappreciated or even humiliated; these the client may perceive as “self-righteous rage”. Others defend against shame through paranoid states in which others are seen as tormenting or accusing the self. For still other clients, envious states or episodes of blaming self or others manifest. How can you as therapist discern these states of mind? Zaslav (1998) suggests that psychotherapists are apt to enter complementary states of mind in which shame-related themes dominate. Thus, tapping into your own feelings in the moment will provide important clues to the client’s state of mind. Note that the client may present their guilty self (guilt being an often adaptive emotion in which we experience doing something bad rather than being bad), but a shamed self is not likely to appear directly, as clients go to frantic lengths to avoid experiencing it; by its nature, it is hidden even from the client (Zaslav, 1998).

Finally, upon entering a shameful state, many clients experience a transient inability to think, referred to as “cognitive shock” (Zaslav, 1998). Thus, while a psychotherapy session may work well for guilt, which can be expressed, processed, and expiated, the sense of vulnerability and exposure that goes with shame is almost always accompanied by a direct avoidance of communication about it, and this is compounded by states including disruptive imagery, cognitive disorganisation, and emotional dysregulation (Zaslav, 1998). All of this can trigger behaviour which conflicts with any prosocial, adaptive functions of shame (such as helping an individual to find his or her place in society), and instead leads the person to cut empathic ties to others.

Shame is rich in transferences

Along with all of this comes the challenge that shame – especially because it is so difficult for people to confront directly in themselves – is often repressed and thus projected outward, to the therapist and others. Much has been written about this aspect which is beyond the scope of this article, but note that, given the painful split between the devalued self and a devaluing other, defensive operations within the client are likely to result in the shame experience being projected onto or into the therapist (in projection and projective identification, respectively). This means that you as therapist may be made to feel about yourself as the client feels about him/herself. How do you know this is happening? Again, the information is located conveniently in your own body/emotions, when you begin to notice shifts in your own self-evaluation. You become, in essence, the “spokesperson” for the client’s poor self-esteem. The client may project inadequacy onto you, systematically and unconsciously undermining and devaluing your efforts, until you begin to doubt your own adequacy as a therapist. Feelings of weakness or deficiency are common in shame-based projections. Similarly, the client may reveal contemptuous or devaluing attitudes toward the therapist that can be linked in treatment to a disowned weak or defective self superimposed upon the psychotherapist. If this happens to you and you are able to tolerate the projections openly – without corresponding shameful retreat, you provide a powerful message to the client that it is safe to examine his or her internalisation of a devalued, incompetent self (Zaslav, 1998).

Finally, we note that a different form of transference/countertransference can occur when the client unconsciously pressures you as therapist to accept a disapproving stance toward him/her. In this case you function as a spokesperson for the client’s self-contempt. Once you understand this, it is easier to maintain a supportive stance, while encouraging exploration of those self-critical attitudes that the client generally puts onto him/herself (Zaslav, 1998).

Enhancing shame resilience in the therapy room

Dearing and Tangney (2011) integrate their master clinicians’ suggestions for how to work with shame in the therapy room through a framework with four aspects: accessing and acknowledging shame, relational validation, shame regulation, and transformation of shame. We look through that framework into suggestions we have unearthed for building shame resilience.

Accessing and acknowledging shame

Numerous authors make the point that shame draws much of its power from the shadows; when we bring it into the light of shared discussion, we disempower it. The saying is apt here that emotions (and shame is one of the darkest and most intense of emotions) are like breathing: they only cause trouble when obstructed (Sack, 2015). Thus, getting beyond shame means being able to share experiences of shame with trusted others. It means exposure to shame. We have emphasised throughout this article and the earlier one that people acting from shame-based instincts uniformly want to avoid looking at it, let alone talking about it. But deal with it they must; exposure to it can be like the graded exposure techniques used with individuals experiencing panic attacks and other forms of anxiety: first a little exposure to it, then gradually increasing amounts (LeJeune, 2016).

It is useful for clients to be able to recognise their triggers. Shame is sneaky; it attacks us where we are most vulnerable, or in other words, our insecurities “prime” us to feel shame in particular areas. The aspiring writer with the freshly-minted novel is more apt to feel shamed when someone points out how compelling another novelist is than when comments are made about someone else’s car. The overweight person who hears how beautiful another (very slender) person is may take that as a hint that he or she should lose the excess weight. Research suggests that a chief shame trigger for women is physical appearance, whereas for men it is the fear of being perceived as weak (Sack, 2015).

In therapy, the mere process of naming shame helps to differentiate it from similar emotions (such as humiliation, guilt, or embarrassment) and also can help the client to normalise it (i.e., pointing out that it is a universal human experience; we all have it at one time or another). The point is to “titrate the dose” of shame-naming so that the client is not overwhelmed, but confronts it little by little as he or she is ready to accept it. As this process occurs, the client comes to see that few, if any, experiences warrant the global “smearing” of the whole personality with the tar-brush that created the global negative self-attributions. Rather, in the logical light of day, most genuine flaws, setbacks, and transgressions are limited to particular areas – and the client can either resolve them or choose to view them more kindly (Dearing & Tangney, 2011; LeJeune, 2016).

Relational validation

Talking about the shame, as above – or rather, being heard around it – is a form of relational validation as well as a way of accessing shame. Empathy is the antidote to shame, so receiving it when telling a shame-generating story can help dissolve it. Especially because of the hidden nature of shame, we can tend to feel isolated in it. Authentic sharing – with vulnerability, to someone who responds empathetically – can build the therapeutic alliance in a therapy session, or strengthen a relationship outside of it. Yes, it can be anxiety-inducing to do this with high shame. As a therapist, note that many psychotherapy writers suggest that you actually use the term “shame”, but you may wish to wait until some relationship is built before using that word (Sholl, 2013; Dearing & Tangney, 2011).

Shame regulation

Along these lines, whatever you can do to help build self-compassion in the client makes it easier for the person to self-soothe, self-validate and regulate the shame. Thus, not only your words, but the timbre, pacing, and tone of your voice – how you say what you say – may influence clients cued to experience threat or disapproval. LeJeune’s research (2016) suggests that even engendering a sense of physical warmth in the therapy room (via a cup of tea, a blanket, or a cosy office) may induce a client to greater compassion for self and therefore greater capacity to self-regulate the shame.

Certainly, psychoeducation and guiding clients in experiences of loving-kindness (Metta) meditation and practices of mindful non-judgment are shown to positively impact a whole host of difficulties related to shame. One technique is to locate where the sensation of shame manifests in the body; let’s say it’s in the pit of the client’s stomach. The client then places a hand over that area (or alternatively, over the heart) and directs comforting, affirming energy to that part of the body. When a client has enhanced self-compassion, it makes it easier to be vulnerable and engage the world from a place of worthiness, thus regulating shame, so it is a full feedback loop (Sholl, 2013).
Tied to helping the client regulate his or her shame is the capacity in us as therapists to be able to recognise and then normalise our own places of shame. Let us say this strongly: it is normal to feel shame as a therapist! We spoke before about shame being put onto or into us by the client via projection or projective identification. Beyond that, we are human, too, and may experience shame from previous experiences completely unrelated to the client. LeJeune’s Number One scientifically-based recommendation for dealing with shame is to “Love your own self-doubt; it makes you a better therapist” (2016). At least, being aware of our own shame and learning about it can help us to model self-compassion and eventual shame regulation for our clients (LeJeune, 2016; Dearing & Tangney, 2011).

Transformation of shame

Finally, we come to the question of how we can change a problematic emotional experience – that of shame – into a more adaptive, empowering, and meaningful emotion that can serve as a resource. One powerful way is to transform shame into guilt. We have differentiated between shame (“I am bad”) and guilt (“I have done something bad”). If we are inherently wrong or bad, there is no hope. But if we have done something wrong, we have the opportunity to make reparation: to apologise, to compensate, to redress whatever wrong we have somehow done. Sometimes it is only necessary to educate clients as to the difference between “being bad” and “doing bad”. Some forms of treatment already support this transformation. Alcoholics Anonymous, for example, encourages members to separate character flaws from their core selves (Step 4) and make amends for what they have done wrong during their addictions (Steps 8 and 9), thus moving from shame to guilt. Taking this step is at least implicit, if not explicit, in therapies such as CBT and REBT. Many success-oriented therapies, such as narrative therapy and solution-focused therapy, ask clients to look for exceptions, so shame-based perfectionists have the opportunity to challenge excessively high standards and others’ evaluations of the self.

In some cases, such as with sexual abuse, the client had no responsibility for the shame-engendering experience and so the therapeutic goal is not the change of focus from shame to guilt. Rather, it is about appropriately externalising the blame back onto the abuser: putting where it belongs. As such clients construct new meaning for long-standing wounds, their shame may shift to anger or sadness. These emotions can be growth-producing in that they point to adaptive actions appropriate to the situation: for example, reaching out to connect to others in sadness and using anger to assert one’s right to life one’s own life without shame (Dearing & Tangney, 2011).

Summary

Much can be written about this intensely painful, complex, and often misunderstood topic of shame. In this article we have looked into how you can identify it in your therapy room, what the typical shame-related states of mind tend to be, and the kinds of transferences that typically pop up in session. We have suggested a four-component framework for treating it which includes accessing and acknowledging it, deepening relational validation, helping the client to regulate the shame, and eventually transforming the shame into other, more adaptive emotions. Paradoxically, the ultimate arbiter of your effectiveness in dealing with client shame is your willingness to be with your own shame.

References

• Dearing, R.L., & Tangney, J.P., Eds. (2011). Working with shame in the therapy hour: Summary and integration. Shame in the therapy hour. Washington, D.C.: APA Books.
• LeJeune, J. (2016). 20 science-based recommendations for therapy with highly self-critical or shame-prone clients. ACT with compassion. Retrieved on 17 May, 2018, from: Hyperlink.
• Sack, D. (2015). 5 ways to silence shame. Psychology Today. Retrieved on 17 May, 2018, from: Hyperlink.
• Sholl, J. (2013). Shutting shame down. Experience Life. Retrieved on 17 May, 2018, from: Hyperlink.
• Zaslav, M. R. (1998). Shame-related states of mind in psychotherapy. J Psychother Pract Res. 1998 Spring; 7(2), 154-166.

Social psychological models of behaviour attempt to explain why individuals act the way they do in various social contexts. These models integrate individual, interpersonal, and societal factors to provide insights into behaviour. Here’s an overview of some key models:

1. Theory of Planned Behaviour (TPB) proposes that behaviour is influenced by:

– Attitudes toward the behaviour

– Subjective norms (perceptions of others’ approval)

– Perceived behavioural control (i.e., confidence in one’s ability to perform the behaviour [self-efficacy])

2. Social Cognitive Theory (SCT) suggests that behaviour is the result of:

– Reciprocal interaction between personal factors (beliefs, attitudes), environmental factors (social norms), and behaviour itself

– Concepts like self-efficacy (belief in one’s ability) play a major role.

3. Health Belief Model (HBM), designed to predict health-related behaviours. Behaviour is driven by factors such as perceived:

– Susceptibility (risk of harm)

– Severity (consequences of harm)

– Benefits (advantages of action)

– Barriers (obstacles to action)

4. Cognitive Dissonance Theory explains how people strive for consistency between their beliefs, attitudes, and behaviours. When inconsistency arises, they feel dissonance (mental discomfort) and are motivated to reduce it by changing their attitudes or actions.

5. Social Identity Theory examines how individuals define themselves within social groups. Behaviour is influenced by group membership, including in-group favouritism and out-group bias.

6. Attribution Theory focuses on how people explain their own and others’ behaviours. Explains behaviour as being attributed either to internal (dispositional) or external (situational) factors. For example, it is common for people to attribute negative outcomes in their life to external factors rather than internal factors.

7. Elaboration Likelihood Model (ELM) explains how people process persuasive messages and what determines whether those messages will change attitudes or behaviour. It’s often applied in areas like marketing, communication, and public health campaigns. The ELM identifies two primary routes through which persuasion can occur:

– Central Route; this route involves deep, thoughtful consideration of the content and logic of a message. People are more likely to take the central route when they are motivated to process the message (e.g., the topic is personally relevant or important to them) and they can understand and evaluate the arguments (e.g., they aren’t distracted, and they have enough knowledge about the subject). Persuasion through the central route tends to result in long-lasting attitude change that is resistant to counterarguments. Example: A person researching the pros and cons of electric cars before deciding to buy one.

– Peripheral Route, which relies on superficial cues or heuristics (mental shortcuts) rather than the message’s content. People are more likely to take the peripheral route when they are not highly motivated or lack the ability to process the message deeply, and when they focus on external factors like the attractiveness or credibility of the speaker, emotional appeals, or catchy slogans. Persuasion through this route tends to result in temporary attitude change that is less resistant to counterarguments. Example: A person choosing a product because their favourite celebrity endorsed it.

8. Self-Determination Theory (SDT) emphasizes intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. It emphasizes the role of intrinsic motivation—doing something for its inherent satisfaction—over extrinsic motivation, which is driven by external rewards or pressures. It suggests that behaviour is influenced by the need for:

– Autonomy (control over one’s actions); When people perceive they have a choice and are acting in alignment with their values, their motivation and satisfaction increase.

– Competence; Refers to the need to feel effective, capable, and successful in achieving desired outcomes. People are motivated when tasks challenge them at an appropriate level and provide opportunities for growth and mastery. Example: A gamer progressing through increasingly difficult levels, gaining skills and confidence along the way.

– Relatedness; Refers to the need to feel connected to others and experience a sense of belonging. Supportive relationships and positive social interactions enhance motivation and well-being. Example: Employees feeling a bond with their colleagues in a collaborative work environment.

9. Social Learning Theory proposes that behaviour is learned through observation and imitation. Role models and reinforcement play a key role in shaping actions.

10. Transtheoretical Model (Stages of Change) explains behaviour change as a process occurring in stages: precontemplation, contemplation (ambivalence), preparation, action, and maintenance

These models provide frameworks to understand behaviours in contexts like health, decision-making, group dynamics, and social influence.

Across Australian Demographics in Today’s Climate: A Review of Current Statistics and Research | webbtherapy.org | 2025–2026

Introduction

Australia is navigating one of the most psychologically challenging periods in its modern history. Converging social, economic, and political forces — including a cost-of-living crisis, housing unaffordability, the lingering aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, and growing climate anxiety — are placing significant strain on the mental health of people across all age groups and demographics.

According to the National Mental Health Commission’s National Report Card 2024, approximately 3.8 million Australians aged 16 and over — nearly one in five — experienced a mental disorder in the past year, with anxiety and depression the most prevalent conditions (NMHC, 2025). This document draws on the most current Australian research and data to provide a demographic overview of the psychological and emotional issues affecting Australians today.

1. Children & Adolescents (Ages 12–17)

Young Australians are experiencing rising rates of psychological distress at a level that represents a genuine public health emergency. Multiple intersecting pressures — financial insecurity in the home, climate anxiety, social media use, and disruptions to schooling and socialisation — are placing extraordinary demands on developing minds.

Key Statistics

Psychological distress: A 2025 headspace survey of over 3,000 young Australians found that nearly half (49%) were experiencing high or very high levels of psychological distress. Among 12–14 year-olds, the rate was 31%, rising to 65% among 18–25 year-olds (headspace, 2025).

Financial stress: The Mission Australia Youth Survey 2025 found that 64% of young people aged 14–19 identified cost of living as Australia’s most pressing national issue — the highest level since the question was first asked in 2010, and up from 56% in 2024 and 31% in 2023 (Mission Australia, 2025).

Mental health concerns: Two in five young people (39%) reported stress related to their own mental health and wellbeing, and nearly one in five (19%) reported experiencing high psychological distress in the weeks prior to being surveyed (Mission Australia, 2025).

Gender differences: The ABS National Study of Mental Health and Wellbeing (2020–22) found that 34.2% of females aged 16–24 reported high or very high psychological distress, compared with 18% of males in the same age group (ABS, 2023).

At-risk subgroups: Distress rates are especially elevated among LGBTIQA+ young people (77%) and First Nations young people (59%) (headspace, 2025).

Contributing Factors

The National Mental Health Commission (2025) identifies multiple drivers of deteriorating youth mental health, including increased financial insecurity, concerns about climate change, shifting social connection patterns — particularly the move to digital interaction over in-person connection — changes in sleep, screen time, and nutrition, and the disproportionate socioeconomic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on young people’s lives.

2. Young Adults (Ages 18–35)

Young adults are among the most psychologically vulnerable groups in Australia at present. They face a unique confluence of pressures: the transition to independent adulthood, entry into an unaffordable housing market, tertiary education debt, precarious employment, and an uncertain political and economic landscape.

Key Statistics

Prevalence: Young adults aged 18–34 report the highest rates of mental health symptoms of any adult age group, with approximately 45% experiencing symptoms in 2025, up from 40% in 2023 (NMHC/AIHW, 2025).

Cost-of-living and mental health: A 2025 Compare the Market survey found that 72% of Gen Z respondents said cost-of-living pressures had worsened or triggered anxiety and depression, impacting their health, sleep and relationships — the highest rate of any age cohort (SBS Insight, 2025).

Housing stress: Australia’s Rental Affordability Index labels all major cities and regional areas as ‘critically unaffordable’ for people on lower incomes. A 2025 longitudinal study tracking more than 10,000 Australian renters found mental health declines sharply once housing costs exceed 30% of income (The Conversation, 2025).

Loneliness: Recent data suggests that 1 in 4 Australian men aged 15–34 report feeling lonely most days (Psychology NSW, 2025).

Emerging Concerns

Social comparison via social media, economic precarity*, and the perceived impossibility of home-ownership are contributing to a pervasive sense of hopelessness and deferred life milestones. Many young adults report anxiety about the future as a core psychological preoccupation.

*Precarity definition: the condition of existence without predictability or security, characterised by instability in employment, income, and social safety nets.

3. Men (All Ages)

Men represent a persistently underserved demographic in mental health. Cultural norms around masculinity continue to suppress help-seeking, while suicide rates among men remain disproportionately high across all age groups. In 2024, men accounted for 76.5% of all suicide deaths in Australia — a ratio that has remained largely unchanged for decades (ABS, 2025; AMHF, 2025).

Key Statistics

Suicide: 3,307 Australians died by suicide in 2024, of whom 2,529 (76.5%) were male. The age-standardised suicide rate for men was 18.7 per 100,000, compared with 5.5 per 100,000 for women. Men aged 40–44 accounted for the largest proportion of male suicide deaths (10.5%) (ABS, 2025; Life in Mind, 2025).

Working-age men: The number of suicides in men of working age (25–64) reached a record high in 2024 (AMHF, 2025), with males aged 60–64 experiencing an 18% increase in age-specific suicide rates from 2023 to 2024 (ABS, 2025).

Help-seeking gap: While men are 3.5 times more likely to die by suicide than women, they make up less than 40% of people seeking mental health support. Research indicates that 1 in 8 Australian men experience depression or anxiety, but fewer than half receive treatment (Psychology NSW, 2025).

High-risk occupations: Suicide rates among male construction workers are approximately double those of other male workers, with an age-standardised rate of 26.6 per 100,000 compared to 13.2 for other male workers (Lancet Regional Health, 2024).

Somatic presentation: Men are more likely to present with physical symptoms of depression and anxiety — chronic headaches, fatigue, back pain — rather than emotional ones, often delaying diagnosis and intervention (Psychology NSW, 2025).

4. Women (All Ages)

Women consistently report higher rates of psychological distress, anxiety, and depression than men. Additional psychological burdens arise from gendered experiences including domestic labour, caregiving, family violence, reproductive health, and workplace inequity.

Key Statistics

Distress rates: In the 2022 National Health Survey, women aged 18 and over were more likely to report high or very high psychological distress than men. Among young women aged 18–25, the rate was 34.2% — the highest of any adult demographic (ABS, 2023; Dharmayani & Mihrshahi, 2025).

Financial stress: 56.6% of millennial women surveyed in 2025 reported that cost-of-living pressures had worsened or triggered anxiety and depression (SBS Insight, 2025). Single mothers and women in casual employment are particularly vulnerable to financial-related mental health impacts.

Suicide: Women aged 25–29 had the highest age-specific female suicide rate (9.8 per 100,000) and accounted for the largest proportion of female suicide deaths (12.3%) in 2024 (Life in Mind, 2025).

Income and distress: Research from Dharmayani and Mihrshahi (2025), using Australian National Health Survey data, found that psychological distress increased as personal weekly income decreased, confirming income insecurity as a significant driver of poor mental health among women.

5. Older Adults (Ages 65+)

Older Australians face a distinct set of psychological challenges shaped by major life transitions — retirement, bereavement, declining health, loss of independence, and changing living arrangements. These experiences, when compounded by social isolation, can have profound effects on mental health.

Key Statistics

Loneliness and social isolation: According to the AIHW (2024), approximately 16% of Australians aged over 65 experience loneliness, and 11% are socially isolated. Research suggests loneliness may increase the risk of premature death to a degree comparable to smoking or obesity (Ausmed, 2026).

Depression in aged care: Approximately 52% of older adults in residential aged care experience depressive symptoms, while 8.2% of community-dwelling older adults experience depression (ScienceDirect, 2021).

Men aged 85+: Older men are at particularly elevated suicide risk. In 2024, males aged over 85 had the highest age-specific suicide rate of any group at 31.2 per 100,000 (Life in Mind, 2025).

Digital exclusion: Australians aged 65 and over remain the least digitally included age group, with an Australian Digital Inclusion Index score of 49.7 compared to the national average of 63.0 (NMHC, 2022). This digital exclusion compounds social isolation, particularly post-pandemic.

Contributing Factors

As identified by Engel and Mihalopoulos (2024) in the Medical Journal of Australia, the ‘loneliness epidemic’ represents a major public health concern in older age. Life transitions including retiring from work, loss of friends and partners, declining physical health, and the move to residential aged care all increase vulnerability to loneliness, depression, and anxiety.

6. Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islander Peoples

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples experience significantly higher rates of psychological distress and suicide compared to non-Indigenous Australians. These outcomes must be understood within a broader cultural, historical, and social context that includes the ongoing impacts of colonisation, systemic racism, intergenerational trauma, and ongoing barriers to accessing culturally safe services. Mental health in this context is better understood through the framework of social and emotional wellbeing (SEWB), which encompasses connection to Country, family, kinship, community, and culture.

Key Statistics

Psychological distress: In 2022–23, approximately 30% of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander adults experienced high or very high levels of psychological distress in the four weeks prior to interview (ABS, 2024; NMHC, 2025). This is more than double the general population rate of 14% (ABS, 2022).

The role of discrimination: Analysis of the Mayi Kuwayu study (2018–2021) found that 42% of First Nations people experienced high or very high psychological distress; among those experiencing everyday racial discrimination, the rate was 49%, compared with 32% for those who did not report such discrimination (ABS, 2024).

Suicide: In 2024, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people had an age-standardised suicide rate of 33.9 per 100,000 — more than triple the non-Indigenous rate. This rate was 6.5% higher than in 2023. For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander men, the rate was 55.1 per 100,000 (Life in Mind, 2025).

Anxiety: Anxiety was the most common mental or behavioural condition reported in the 2022–23 National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Health Survey, affecting 21% of respondents aged two and over; it was 1.5 times more common among females (25%) than males (17%) (ABS, 2024).

Access to services: Around one in four First Nations people aged 15 and over (26%) would have liked to access mental health support but did not in the 12 months prior to survey, with access barriers particularly pronounced in remote areas (ABS, 2024).

7. LGBTIQA+ People

LGBTIQA+ Australians continue to experience disproportionately poor mental health outcomes compared to their heterosexual and cisgender peers. These outcomes are directly linked to experiences of stigma, prejudice, discrimination, and social exclusion — often described through the lens of minority stress theory. Progress in legal rights does not automatically translate to psychological safety or equitable mental healthcare.

Key Statistics

Mental disorders: People with a diverse sexual identity are three times more likely to be diagnosed with a mental disorder compared to heterosexual people (ABS, 2023).

Self-harm: Trans and gender-diverse Australians are twice as likely to engage in self-harm throughout their lifetime compared to cisgender Australians (ABS, 2023).

Psychological distress in youth: Among young people, LGBTIQA+ respondents reported a distress rate of 77% — significantly above the general youth population rate of 49% — in the Headspace 2025 survey.

Suicidality: Members of the LGBTQIA+ community report suicide attempts at rates up to 10 times higher than the general population (Lifeline, 2025).

Healthcare barriers: In the Private Lives 3 national survey, 57% of LGBTIQ respondents reported being treated unfairly in the past 12 months based on their sexual orientation, and 77.5% of trans and gender-diverse respondents reported being treated unfairly based on their gender identity. Only 43.4% of LGBTIQ respondents felt accepted when accessing health services (AMA, 2024).

Rural/regional compounding: Research published in 2025 found LGBTQ+ people in rural and regional communities experienced compounded psychological harm due to conservative social environments, limited peer connection, and inadequate access to inclusive services (Tandfonline, 2025).

8. Financial Stress as a Cross-Cutting Issue

Economic pressures represent one of the most significant cross-cutting determinants of psychological distress across all Australian demographics. The confluence of rising housing costs, elevated mortgage rates, rental stress, and a persistent cost-of-living gap is affecting people’s mental health in tangible and measurable ways.

Key Statistics

Financial stress prevalence: Close to 7 in 10 Australian households (69%) are dealing with significant financial stress, with 57% struggling to afford household essentials including groceries, utilities, and healthcare (Real Insurance, 2024).

Mental health impact: A 2025 Compare the Market survey found that nearly half of Australians (48.7%) said cost-of-living pressures had worsened or triggered anxiety and depression, affecting their health, sleep, and relationships (SBS Insight, 2025).

Housing stress: In 2024–25, an estimated 1.26 million low-income households were in financial housing stress, spending more than 30% of their disposable income on housing (AIHW, 2025). Almost half (44.5%) of households with a mortgage spent above this threshold (AIHW, 2025).

Skipping healthcare: Almost two-thirds of financially stressed Australians (65%) have skipped essential medical appointments — including mental health appointments — due to cost (Real Insurance, 2024).

Beyond Blue’s Clinical Spokesperson Dr Luke Martin has noted the bidirectional relationship between financial stress and mental health: financial hardship affects mood, cognition, sleep, and relationships, while poor mental health in turn impairs a person’s capacity to manage money and seek help — creating a cycle that is often difficult to escape without external support (HIA, 2026).

9. Summary of Key Themes by Demographic

• Children & Adolescents (12–17): Rising psychological distress (49% high/very high); financial stress at home; social media pressures; climate anxiety; loneliness; academic disruption. Elevated risk for LGBTIQA+ youth (77%) and First Nations youth (59%).
• Young Adults (18–35): Cost-of-living and housing affordability crisis driving anxiety and depression; loneliness; identity and purpose challenges; deferred life milestones; highest mental disorder rates of any adult cohort.
• Men (All Ages): Persistent help-seeking barriers; disproportionately high suicide rates (76.5% of deaths); somatic symptom presentation; high-risk occupations (construction); financial and work-related stress.
• Women (All Ages): Higher distress and anxiety rates; financial vulnerability; caregiving burden; family violence; cost-of-living impacts; elevated suicide risk in young women aged 25–29.
• Older Adults (65+): Loneliness and social isolation; depression; bereavement; loss of independence; digital exclusion; very high suicide risk in men aged 85+.
• Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islander Peoples: Intergenerational trauma; systemic racism; high distress and suicide rates (33.9 per 100,000); cultural disconnection; access barriers to culturally safe care.
• LGBTIQA+ People: Minority stress; discrimination in healthcare; three-fold increase in mental disorder diagnoses; elevated self-harm and suicidality; rural/regional compounding factors.

Disclaimer

This document has been prepared for informational and professional development purposes. All statistics and research references were current as at April 2026. Data from some primary sources have been collected in prior years; readers are encouraged to consult primary sources for the most current figures. This document does not constitute clinical advice.