Black Girls vs. Mental Health

My mental health is quickly deteriorating.

And I’d bet my last dollar that this same diagnosis applies to a lot of you guys.

But why is that? Like, why can’t our minds be healthy and prospering in these streets?

These are questions that I ask myself almost daily, when really, I already know the answer.

The thing is, it’s an answer that I don’t like.

There is absolutely no reason why I can’t be in a great mental space.

The reason why that is not my current situation (Shout out to you, Jordyn, girl!) is because of me.

I’m not allowing my mental health to flourish because I’m not putting in the work for it.

And I not putting in the work for it because I’m scared to deal with all the baggage that comes along with that.

Ahh, we’re getting to the meat of it, ladies!

I tend to be a bit emotionally detached when it comes to dealing with the unfortunate circumstances in my life.

Things happen; I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to feel, I don’t want to do anything.

I’ve gotten so good at simply removing myself (not always physically) from situations that require me to confront my demons.

And I really feel like that tragic ideology stems from the unpermitted weight that the world has placed on our shoulders as Black women.

Since the beginning of time, we have been expected to act as a silent punching bag to the world, remain solid and unwavering, even if everything else is crumbling.

The mentality that you need to dust yourself off and keep it moving with no allotted time for processing and/or mourning when the misfortunes of life occur has always been prevalent in our community.

So naturally, that repeated behavior creates a void for vulnerability, which is a very necessary act for gaining a healthier mindset.

It doesn’t help that Black women are often characterized as angry or bitter every time we do happen to share our true thoughts or just feel, in general.

I won’t call it a wall, but I’ve built an emotional window that protects me from that unwarranted backlash.

I allow my emotions to run freely, or roll my window down, just so long as they don’t result in me being open about my flaws or the flaws of my loved ones.

Once that scenario arises, I immediately roll my window up.

I internalize so much that one day, I’m just going to explode.

So, I’m hoping that in blogging about my battle with mental health, that this will be a healing process for not only me, but all of you beautiful people who identify with my experience.

Because we don’t need all these explosions popping up everywhere.

Saddle up, sis. We’re just getting started.