This is way back on page 1 and I haven't RTFT but this kind of thing:
it's not affecting your mental health being referred to as a person and not a woman on a packet of pads
really gets on my tits (the ones that sprouted unbidden from my chest when I was 11).
People mimble on about "mental health" when what they mean is "having emotions". Everyone has emotions. Nobody's entitled to experience only nice emotions. Sure, there are stressful situations that can, sometimes, if they happen to somebody who's vulnerable to mental health problems, cause mental illness. But I'm fucked off with "mental health awareness" that focuses on (and these will be university-based examples as I recently completed a degree) how university exams are stressful, or missing your family back home can make you sad, and how we should reach out to friends for our "mental health" — all the while ignoring the existence of those with OCD, personality disorder, schizophrenia, major depressive disorder, hoarding disorder, delusional disorder, social phobia, trichotillomania, bipolar disorder, anorexia nervosa, generalised anxiety disorder, and the list goes on — put together, a not inconsiderable chunk of the population.
I have a mental illness — I'm bipolar. Sometimes it makes me believe really weird shit. I'm not entitled to have everyone agree with my delusions just because it upsets me if they challenge them. My mental illness is real, sometimes excruciating, life-threatening and disabling. I have to take dangerous medications that affect my daily functioning and long-term may cause serious physical damage, just to prevent me getting an episode of mental illness, because getting ill is even more dangerous.
You trivialise my mental illness and that of millions of others by suggesting that we should stop referring to women on sanitary towels, for the sake of somebody's "mental health".
Everybody, with or without mental illness, has to learn to live in a world where not everything is designed specifically to pander to them and their beliefs about who they are.
Bugger your pantyliner-based therapy.