Black People Need Therapy Too

"Black people need therapy too."

Sounds stupid when I write it out but it's a mantra that I find myself repeating as I take my weekly trip to the Sexual Assault Center and my monthly trips to the Mental Health Co-op. It took a long time for me to acknowledge that getting help was not a sign of weakness or a sign of failure. Even now, going into the Mental Health Co-op I feel out of place. I look at the people around me, older, mumbling and I tell myself that I don't belong here. Then I remember the days and nights I spent imprisoned behind a wall of my own unfounded insecurities and fears, unable to function and I know that I am where I need to be. 

When my therapist suggested I talk a psychiatrist, I balked. Medication? No. Not for me. In my mind, the "medicated" ones were controlled by their pills, excusing their bizarre behavior with "I didn't take my meds." The first (extremely abbreviated) stint at therapy, my dad flat out said "No medications. You don't need chemicals to control you." I didn't want to be controlled. I heard his same words tumble out of my mouth. "I don't want to be controlled."

She didn't press the issue and for that I thank her. She merely asked me about it gently when I came to my sessions and talked about her own experience. She took when she had anxiety attacks. It wasn't an everyday thing. It helped during trauma work, she told me. She hesitated bringing me into the trauma work until I had better control over my anxiety. It was comforting to hear a positive story about someone on medication.

But she was white and black people do not take medication like that. At least I didn't know anybody who did.

It wasn't until a casual conversation with one of my friends that I realized how big of a lie that was. He mentioned how much better he felt being on anti-anxiety medication. I was surprised he even needed it. He was always so cool, calm and collected. He was always the example I pointed to when my non geek friends questioned whether or not any of my other friends were socially adjusted. He was mature, responsible, and black. He was on anti-anxiety meds. I couldn't tell. He was exactly the same on the outside but on the inside?

He felt miles different and it was a good thing.

Shortly after that conversation, I messaged my older sister and told her I was thinking about going on anti-anxiety medication. She told me "I was on it for awhile too. It helps."

I started to wonder how many of my family members were dealing with this too and just weren't talking about it.

So here I am, talking about it.

Black people need therapy too. I don't know if it's something that's just rooted in the deeply religious culture of the black community but this intrinsic fear of being labeled as "crazy" is a very real roadblock to getting mental health care. It's not a sign of weakness. It's an acknowledgment that you've done all you can and you need help to go the next mile. Depression. Anxiety. Suicide. These aren't things that are inclusive to white people. Black people have these problems too and it's time we talk about them.