Archipelagotimes.com – For those of you who lie down but have a brain to walk.
In the middle of Jakarta’s thickest traffic and thinnest patience, Dina, a 28-year-old copywriter with anxiety-induced acid reflux, met a man on Bumble who claimed to “do crypto but chill.” Fast forward three months later, she’s deep in his Telegram group, losing ETH and trust simultaneously. Meanwhile, in Surabaya, a barista named Raka found a “soulmate” who ghosted him every full moon because—plot twist—she had bipolar disorder and believed he was a government plant. These aren’t isolated incidents. Welcome to the concrete jungle where mental instability is romanticized, commodified, and—oddly—matched by algorithms.
According to a 2024 report by Mental Health Index Asia, urban Gen Z and Millennials are 2.5x more likely to report romantic burnout linked to untreated mental health issues. But here’s the kicker: those with access to therapy (read: the middle-upper class) often turn their diagnosis into bio-aesthetic—“ADHD cutie,” “just a lil BPD.” Meanwhile, those in the lower income brackets face stigma, zero access to help, and still have to smile at customers while getting ghosted for being “too much.” Romantic suffering has become a class currency—some can afford to heal, others can only feel.
And yet, there’s something inherently Indonesian about falling in love while broken. We grew up watching soap operas where amnesia brings people closer, and gaslighting is just called “cinta yang diuji.” It’s poetic, really. In a country where healing is expensive but drama is free, love becomes both escape room and crime scene. Who needs compatibility when you’ve got trauma bonding and a good night text that says, “Maaf aku lagi overthinking berat”?
So, is it love, codependence, or just two nervous systems trying to make sense of a chaotic planet? And if you’re both healing, who’s holding the steering wheel?
