There are still people who believe mental illness only affects certain races. Within parts of the Black community, depression and anxiety are sometimes treated like weaknesses, excuses, or “something white people deal with.” Medication can be stigmatized even more.
We may hear:
“You don’t need medication, just pray.”
“Black people don’t have time to be depressed.”
“You’re too strong for that.”
“It’s all in your head.”
But mental illness does not discriminate. I don't know who need to hear this but....depression ain’t checking your skin color!! Anxiety does not care how successful, educated, spiritual, or strong you are. Trust me, I’m all of that, and guess what? When my heart rate reached 145 beats per minute, none of those things made me immune. Baby, I thought I was out of here!!!!
I have experienced several painful losses throughout my life. I always recognized that I dealt with some depression and anxiety, but in 2024, it hit me with a force I had never experienced before. There were mornings when I did not want to get out of bed. I did not want to go to work. I did not want to participate in life. Some days, I would make it to work, but I would be overwhelmed with anxiety. Then, in June 2024, I experienced my first panic attack. I genuinely thought I was having a heart attack. My body was responding as though I were in immediate danger, even though there was no visible threat. It took me weeks to recognize that I needed more support.
My mind kept repeating terrifying thoughts:
“I’m going to die.”
“I’m scared.”
“I need to run away.” But what was I running from?
There was no attacker. There was no immediate danger. Still, my body and mind were sounding an alarm and couldn’t turn it off!! Eventually, I reached out for professional help and began taking sertraline and hydroxyzine. Listen honey, it was one of the best decisions I have ever made for myself. Medication did not make me weak. It did not change who I was. It did not mean that I had failed, stopped believing in God, or lacked the strength to handle my life. It gave me support when my mind and body needed help regulating what I could no longer manage alone.
Medication may not be everyone’s path, and each person should work with a qualified healthcare professional to determine what is appropriate. But nobody should be ashamed for needing it.
Medication was not the only thing that helped me manage my depression and anxiety. I also bought my bearded dragon, Godzilla and that little reptile became part of my healing journey! Caring for him gave me something positive to focus on, a reason to maintain a routine, and companionship on the days when I wanted to withdraw from everything. Godzilla could not erase my depression or anxiety, but he brought comfort, laughter, and a sense of purpose back into my life. Sometimes healing comes through therapy and medication, and sometimes it has scales, a heat lamp, a needy personality and something that eats live bugs.. LBVS!
As Black people, many of us were taught to survive silently. We watched previous generations endure racism, poverty, violence, grief, family dysfunction, and trauma without being given the language or safety to discuss their mental health. Survival became a badge of honor—but sometimes surviving silently came at a tremendous emotional cost.
Strength is not pretending that you are okay. Strength is recognizing when you are not okay and giving yourself permission to seek help. I don't know if anyone ever told you this but, you can pray and take medication, you can believe in God and attend therapy, You can be strong and still struggle with depression, You can be successful and experience panic attacks, You can love your family and still need support beyond what they can provide. Mental illness is not reserved for one race, gender, age, income level, or profession. It can affect the therapist, the teacher, the pastor, the parent, the student, the business owner, and the person everyone else depends on.
If your mind constantly tells you that you are in danger when no danger is present, please do not suffer in silence. If you no longer enjoy your life, struggle to get out of bed, feel constantly afraid, or believe you must run away without knowing what you are running from, My people, please reach out to a licensed mental health professional or medical provider. You deserve to feel safe inside your own mind and body. Getting help is not weakness. Taking prescribed medication is not something to hide. Your race does not make you immune to mental illness, and stigma should never prevent you from receiving the care you deserve. Mental illness does not discriminate, and neither should healing. I am a firm believer that faith does not mean we will never experience depression or anxiety. Faith reminds us that even during our darkest moments, God remains close. Sometimes, His help comes through prayer, therapy, medication, and the people He places along our path.
“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” —Psalm 34:18 (KJV)
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