I am still here. You may have been wondering, where is she? My last post was April 3, 2016. Well, let me tell you, I have been on a journey. I am suffering from depression, medication and all that comes with it. I have not been able to write, read, let alone function clearly due to the wall I crashed into, or should I say, the wall that crashed into me. It has been a month now, and I am doing much better, but this journey is what it is. I can only take the one day at a time granted me by the Father. The post you are about to read is what I wrote a few days after that dreadful day, April 6th.
My brothers and sisters, depression is real. The masks that we as African-American men and woman have been conditioned to wear must be removed. We must allow the process of life to flow through us no matter how it looks and while life is flowing, we must acknowledge who we are and what it is for us. Wearing the super cape, putting on the vibrant smile, saying we are okay when in fact we are not cannot continue to be our mantra. I will be penning my journey of depression in the hopes that in my words and transparency, you will see that in many ways we all suffer and if not checked, can be horrific not only for you but for those who love you. Stay tuned, its about to get real, up close and personal. My voice. My journey with depression. I would love to hear from you.
I absolutely do not know where to start in writing this blog. The past month has been eye opening. On April 6, 2016, I crashed face first in a wall; a wall of depression. Out of nowhere, the emotions of dread and despair gripped my shoulders and made its attempt to slam me unconscious. One minute I am fine and the next, completely shattered. Tears flowing, throat closing, and hand trembling, shattered. Sound familiar? Are you in denial that you too have hit the wall of depression? Well listen up, depression is serious and it is time that you get up and get busy getting the help you need to be the best you that you can be, without the mask.