I Am A Black Woman Beating Depression

The reason I went into therapy in college, after convincing myself I don't need it anymore (we'll get into that as well) was because I had a break down, drunk, at a party. It was my cry for help, and then I realized the only person who can help me, is me. I decided to go to my school counselor, and this is where I was told I might be experiencing depression. Lets talk about it..

According to the American Psychiatric Association, Depression is " a common and serious medical illness that negatively affects how you feel, the way you think and how you act". I never really considered myself to have it, I always thought "Ok I was sad for this month, but the next month will be better" and sometimes, it did not get better. I would go for months being sad, and then sometimes it would get better, only for it to come back in a wave of sadness. If you experience something like this, please talk to a therapist or a doctor, they can help..trust me.

Something about me: I always want to understand why am I the way I am. Why am I depressed? How can I fix it? I always try to find the root of the problem, and how to live with it, or in my eyes, beat it. I found my root of depression started when I was 10-13, my parents were getting divorced, and both of my parents argued. We went between houses, I felt like it was my fault that they were getting divorced. Now that I'm 18, I realized that it was not my fault and simply my parents were not meant to be together. God only brought them together to make me and my sister. Anyway, when my parents got divorced, we went to family counseling, I did not understand why, and I felt very sad for everything that was happening. Family issues started to rise, and I did not understand how to make it stop, for the issues seemed to constantly be aimed at me. Here is where it all began.

As I grew from 10 to 11 to 12, this was a time when the internet was becoming more popular, Instagram, Twitter, YouTube, etc was making a come up and I just so happened to be the generation who was growing up on it. I was 12 years old looking at fake body types on Instagram wanting to look exactly like that. At the time, I was very insecure about my body image, my family members always talked about it, I was called fat since I was 10. I was looking online trying to starve myself so I won't look "ugly" or "fat", not to mention there were no dark skin girls, and if so they were being sexualized and objectified. I thought I was "dark as hell" from what people use to call me online, and at school. (Shout out to all the dark skin women who experienced colorist views, you are not alone). I was facing family issues, and turned to the internet, and men who were older than me by 3 years+ for validation, I did not realized they were all very weird for talking to a 12-13 year old girl, who obviously had issues.

At this time, I was also going through puberty, and was flattered by all the attention men were giving me. I was very fond of a boy at my school, who was older than me, I thought he was my friend, but he did what I never thought would happen to me. I was raped, and I thought I deserved it for a very long time. I felt scared to come forth about who did it, and to this day, I am terrified to tell my story. (If you have told your story you are strong, and you are beautiful). I was hurting physically and mentally, and my home issues were only getting worst. I was physically, emotionally, and mentally abused both at home and at school, I was scared to go to one of my parents houses. My mother tried to get me to come forth about what the boy did, only for me to go to school and kids come up to me and talk to me about it saying "He said he doesn't care if he goes to jail, he was satisfied". I was the talk of the school and coming home to a hostile environment did not make it easier to open up. I practiced self harm, and ended up being in the hospital for a week. Everyone around me seemed to think I was doing it for attention, and they were right, this was my cry for help. My safe place seemed to be my mom's house, and she was very supportive, but even then I still felt alone. I caved deeper into myself, locking away all the traumatic events, both from school and home somewhere deep in my brain.

Senior year came around and I thought I was happy, until I wasn't. I went to therapy because I had a break down, which was due to the birth control I was on. A family member took me there and made me seem as if I was the big problem in the family, which is why I use to hate therapy. But as time went on, I started to love it, and grew excited to talk to my therapist who was young and pretty, this helped she was able to relate to me more. I vented to her about how everything started when I was 10. As senior year went on, I met a guy who I thought was safe to be around, again I was proved wrong, and was pressured into having sex. I did not realize at the time, it was rape. I cried after, and turned to self harm to release the pain I was feeling. I constantly thought to myself "Why Me?". I thank God for my family and friends who got me through this time, if it wasn't for them, one day the cut would've been too deep, and I would not be here to tell my story.

Now that we got through the root of the issues, we can finally talk about me finding out, facing, and currently beating depression. Second semester of college was rough, and the weekend I had my breakdown, I was very sad the night before. I did not understand why I was so sad, but it seemed like all the memories and events that I locked away, were hitting me all at once. It was a wave of sadness I refuse to feel again. I decided after years of neglecting therapy, to go to the school counselor. When I figured out that I have depression, I cried. I was sad and hated the thought of having something I can't control, and something to blame besides myself for my sadness, and breakdowns. I also felt releaved, I finally found the correct word to why I am feeling the way I feel, and I finally told myself, I am going to kick depressions ass.

First and foremost, depression is something that you can beat, and also live with. It's not something that just "goes away" or "do something that makes you happy", it is a feeling, physically, and emotionally. Some days I didn't feel like getting out of bed, other days I would spend all day crying, and some nights I would be so sad, I couldn't sleep. Some days I wouldn't eat, and I usually drown myself in work and things to do just to escape from my mind and its thoughts. It's not easier growing up in a black home where at one point thought therapy was bad, and that saying I am sad or depressed is just me seeking attention.

I decided to change from saying "I have depression, sorry for my moods" to "I have depression but I won't let it define me". The thought of having severe depression and me beating it, makes me feel strong knowing that I am not letting it define who I am as a person. I let it control me, and I let it determine what am I going to accomplish that day, I decided to use my issues to fuel my power, everything I went through, being in a physical, emotional, and mentally abusive household, to being sexually harassed and raped, everything made me who I am today. No one should go through what I went through, and I really wish I did not go through it. But I did, and it made me stronger, bolder, and it gave me the drive to accomplish everything I want to accomplish in my life time. I went from not seeing my future at all, to seeing me graduate college, and accomplish my dreams, I even see me getting married. I decided to use all the sad nights, and crying to tell myself "I will not go through this again..I refuse to go through this again".

I turned to God, he is my best friend. I talk to him every day. I swear he laughs at the obstacles he puts in my life and sees me complain because he knows I can get through anything he gives me. He got me through the hard parts of my life, the trauma, and the sadness, now he is helping me achieve happiness. He cuts people out of my life I do not need. He was by my side when I was sad, and for anyone who says no he wasn't, yes..he was. I felt his presence, I felt him in me, around me. I always felt God with me, but now his presence is greater than ever. God LOVES me, and he is and will always be with me. God saved me from dying off, and I am forever blessed to know he picked me to feel his presence, and grace. God is my bff, I love him. I don't know about anyone else but MY God, is a forgiving God, a loving God, a happy God. He is a very laid back, chill God. He wraps his arms around me, and he makes me feel warm. My God is real, and I see him everyday.

Depression is something we all can beat, and its something we can use to say "that is apart of me...but it will not define me". It is hard being a black woman with depression, but guess what? We are beautifully and wonderfully made.