Yes, a new month, and something else dear to my heart you should be aware of. May is Mental Health Awareness Month here in America. It has been observed since 1949, yet today the stigma of acknowledging mental illness still exists. This is especially true in marginalized communities such as Blacks, Asians, Hispanics, Native and First Nations peoples, along with any person who identifies as LGBTQ+ and/or non-binary. I mean when and where does it say that only white, cisgendered people are mentally ill and open about it and the help they need. (If you need explanations of any of those terms, I suggest you research them, because that would be another, infinitely longer, post)
Now, of course, I can only speak to my personal experience as a cisgendered Black woman, and I have plenty to say on how my community has historically viewed the mentally ill. There are years of ingrained ideas of the “strong black woman” who does all, for all, without missing a beat. Let me tell you, as I am sure others could too, that stereotype does us all more harm than good. Especially those of us it supposedly portrays. Have many Black women been forced to portray strength under crushing circumstances, yes. That fact does not mean they didn’t suffer for it, that the public persona honed from sheer determination to survive didn’t mask another more vulnerable and unstable one. Often having to show the world a face that says your idea of my value is not my true worth leads to a tumultuous inside that can’t keep up the facade when no one is watching. This lived duality is continuously eating away at your mental health. There is a barrage on your psyche that over time not only breaks apart your idea of yourself, but then leads others to view you as indestructible. Others than view you as a person who feels no pain, shows no weakness, and therefore needs no consideration. On paper, we may all be equal, but due to the history of this country it is a fallacy, one that is killing our insides just as surely as the selling of our bodies and families did 152 years ago. This history leaves us dying inside and refusing help, often until it is too late.
Does every marginalized person still feel this way, live this way. No, probably safe to say that not every person is afraid of saying they have a problem, seeking help, or of speaking out about their mental health or illness. But, enough of us are still lurking in the shadows, hiding our true selves, not seeking any help at all, that we need to stand with a collective voice and say “You are not alone, it is really okay if you need help. I will not look at you differently or treat you differently. In fact I will stand by you and help in a supportive and positive way because I want you to be healthy.”
I want us to be healthy and I want to be healthy. I stand here saying I have mental illness, I seek help, I am blessed with support. Can I help you to this place?