I am a strong Black woman and I suffer from depression. I recall at a very young age feeling like something was “off.” While in early years, I attributed my emotional roller coaster to abandonment issues associated with adoptive children. It wasn’t until my senior year in high school that things took a toll for the worst. I began the year off on a real high. I had just made the varsity basketball team, met a few college coaches that were willing to come see me play – the world was filled to the brim with opportunity.
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But then it all came crashing down. I was soon after cut off the basketball team due to an error made by my school counselor. Despite a petition letter to the school board, a pathetic personal plea and my parents going to bat for me, the outlook was gloomy. Here I was, coming up on my 18th birthday and everything I had dreamt about since middle school had been ripped away from me. Before I knew it, I had cut myself off from everyone, even my teammates. School took a back seat. I even dropped out months before my graduation. Oddly enough, I felt as if I had no control over my downward spiral.
Family stepped in to the best of their ability but I turned on them. Friends extended a hand and while I wanted to take hold of it, there was a piece of me that was just so overcome by sadness and a loss of interest that I had no reaction at all. Once a bubbly girl full of life, I slowly transitioned into a broken little girl. All the while I thought, ‘this is just a stage… I’ll grow out of it.’ Needless to say, due to a lack of education regarding depression, personality disorders, and my birth mother’s medical history, things began to intensify.
Depression: Family Ties
During the summer of 2003, with the help of my parents, I reached out to my birth mother. In fact, I moved to Chicago to build a relationship with her, as I thought she had all the answers. ‘A location change is all I need to get me out of my funk,’ I thought.
READ: The Strong Black Woman: The New Face of Depression
But I was wrong.
Upon meeting my birth mother, it was like looking in a mirror. Things started off great, but like the year preceding, the London Bridge came tumbling down, without a warning. My birth mother began exhibiting irrational behavior and using. It was then that I learned that my mother suffered from manic depression, a personality disorder that stems from a combination of genetic and non-genetic factors.
It was like a LIGHTBULB. I saw ME, only 25 years later and I didn’t like it. I imagined what life may have been like under her roof, everything I had taken for granted growing up, but more importantly I saw that without help, my future may not look any different. Like my mother, I suffered with spats of rollercoaster emotion with periods of normal mood and energy in between, thoughts of suicide and attempted suicide. Only, I chose to seek out help. While I was not diagnosed with manic depression, in 2005, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, an identification that has since been reduced to seasonal depression.
Journey Into Healing
Needless to say, it has been a bumpy road. While I admit that every day is a battle – as I feel I must wear the face of a “strong Black woman” to make it through, there are many things that have aided me over the years. From finding faith to counseling to exercise, here is list of ways I manage depression.
Pray – Believe it or not, letting God HAVE IT about anything and everything is therapy in itself. The moment you become honest with yourself, let go of the pride, embarrassment and anger – I promise you’ll have an epiphany. I remember as a teen blaming God for my life. Only it took a little life and maturity to learn the difference between God’s will and practicing a little free will. Once I reconnected with God, spent more time with him each morning and decided to try it HIS way, I felt as if a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. My mood improved, I felt a joy I hadn’t felt in years and I was no longer fearful of letting people in, a major tell for people suffering from depression – isolation.
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Exercise – Get your jog on! In 2005, Harvard Medical School published a study that found walking fast for about 35 minutes a day five times a week or 60 minutes a day three times a week had a “significant influence on mild to moderate depression.” So today, I hit the gym at least 3 times a week. Oddly enough, I believe playing ball during my adolescent years was treating my disorder, without me even knowing it. So, when I stopped playing ball, and my body was producing less endorphins (these improve natural immunity, reduce perception of pain, improve mood), my body went into some kind of withdrawal. By reintroducing exercise into my life, I’m not only lifting my mood, but lowering my blood pressure, protecting myself against heart disease, cancer and boosting my self-esteem.
Create a support system – Out of all the “treatments,” surrounding myself with loved ones has proven to be the most effective. Last year, I moved cross country to surround myself with loved ones. Even as I was driving across the plains of Nevada, I felt my spirit smile. Depression is not a battle to be fought alone. Loved ones, whether they be family, friends or lovers, can offer a shoulder and word of encouragement. After all, loved ones make us happy (as they should) and happiness is contagious. It may be an easy cure for depression.
Medication – While I always suggest that medications be a last resort, due to the many zombie-like side effects, some people find solace in popping a pill each day. Several years ago, I experimented with a few antidepressants, but they left me feeling lifeless and at times even more somber. Should you chose to go this route, I caution you to research patient reviews and side effects. Speak up if the medication is creating unwarranted thoughts of suicide. This could mean an adjustment in dosage or a new prescription altogether.
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