Inside Out
For as long as I can remember…at least beginning in junior high, I’ve secretly dealt with depression. I say secretly because unfortunately it’s no surprise that Black families have historically looked at depression/trauma/therapy as weakness and swept it under the rug. My parents would always say to pray about it. Praying is great and CAN be helpful but I needed immediate help/advice. So I buried it. I wrote in my journal and pretended to be happy for YEARS.
Recently I wrote a think piece on black families and trauma that was published on an online blog under an alias, which goes to show that not much has changed. I battled with submitting it using my real name but didn’t want my family to somehow stumble across it and read about the things I went through. Crazy isn’t it? I told the world about my experiences but would have been embarrassed if my family saw it.
Black people are historically and biblically SO strong, and have overcome so much…and while therapy is more widely accepted now, that hasn’t always been the case. I can’t remember how many times I’ve jokingly but seriously suggested therapy to my family and it wasn’t taken seriously.
Now that I’m older and have access to more outlets, I’ve been able to properly take care of my mental health. I still have days where I struggle, but now I have the means to make better choices.
Talking about mental health is so incredibly important because at the end of the day, you’re alone with your thoughts and if you aren’t able to express yourself or get help, it can be detrimental to you and those around you.
My daughter is only 8 now, but I make sure I ask her quite often how she is feeling and if she needs to talk to me about anything. I make sure to tell her I won’t be upset with her but I need her to know that she can talk to me. I feel like if I had that kind of relationship with my parents I would have gotten help earlier on.
I’m out here trying to break generational curses. If I can prevent most of what I went through from happening to my daughter, I will be ecstatic.
Open conversation and understanding is what is needed in our Black families. No one should have to struggle alone or be embarrassed about asking for help.
I believe that life is about making progress. We see a problem-we work to fix it. Everybody struggles. Everybody feels sad sometimes. We all go through rough patches but it’s important that we properly acknowledge what is going on so that we are able to come out on the other side better than before.
To whoever is reading this…if you ever find yourself alone but craving conversation/help/understanding/compassion and you need someone to talk to…I’m no expert but I’d rather listen to you and possibly give my take on your situation than you drown in depression. Hit me up, I swear I’m friendly.
Also, here are some helpful resources I found just in case:
