This article is in no way meant to exploit black men coping with depression.
It is instead meant to give voice to the individual stories.
"Dealing with depression itself is hard enough but when you're dealing with depression as a black man it can be a little tougher than many would expect. Growing up I had two older sisters, and my father would often times tell me that I am to look out for my sisters, treat all women with respect and be able to listen and look out for their depression and emotions. Rarely ever did we talk about the possibility of having depression myself, of how to deal with it, or even recognizing when it would occur... I didn't fully realize that I had depression until I was in high school where I was surrounded by a friend group of other people with depression. Days would come where I had heavy weighing self doubt and thoughts shrouding my head about suicide and a need to be something that I wasn't but wouldn't be fully acknowledged because I didn't want to accept that I had depression and I didn't believe that there was any help for me to get...Even when I found out and realized I had it, it wasn't something I ever brought up to my father because he was a hard working and dedicated black man, which led me to believe that's all I needed to be to not have depression and also that he wasn't dealing with any kind of depression of his own. In actuality, there is a high majority of black men that do have depression, we are just so conditioned to not talk about it to other black men or our fathers that it never comes up...Black men need to start talking about this with their sons at early ages because it causes irreparable damage that has lasting effects on us as we get older."
"To be quite honest, my battle with depression turned into something a lot less black and white. More like from battle to mutual existence in a sense. It went from coping with what exactly it was to coping with the fact that you're (as in myself) black. That meant that nothing could be wrong with you Suicidal thoughts, mental illness, all of that was just something white kids have their parents tell about. So when it came down to me I bottled things up. I put it far away in my mental corridor and pretended that it wasn't a me problem or a problem at all. Sadly, I got older. I had so many different battles come at me and on the coattails of them sat good ole depression. I was diagnosed at 13 which was around the time I was branded gifted too. The two came with judgment from everyone as both, again, seemed to only be characteristics that whites could harbor. I felt so alone for a very long time. I did cut. I did attempt suicide on multiple occasions. And it wasn't out of fear or of not feeling like I was enough. I felt like there was something wrong with me for being the only black boy who felt things like insecurity or emotional doubt or sexual confusion. It literally broke me down to my base, and my community in all honesty didn't make it any better..."
"Well it's like when it first happened or first developed it or diagnosed with it, at times it felt like I was trapped inside my own skin. Or that everything I felt came to me 10 times bigger than it actually was and all at once. I wake up some days feeling trapped wanting to cry but can't. When I tried to commit suicide all I can remember was it felt like 10 million bricks was on my chest and I couldn't breathe. I felt every living pain I have ever felt in the course of my 23 years. Even as I was attempting to slit my wrist with a piece of glass, I did not feel the pain that I was going through overwhelm what I was actually doing physically... Funny thing about depression everybody will say they understand when in actuality they don't. That's what makes it so hard is that I wake up everyday and can't release because I feel like I will be judged or that no one will actually understand. So what I try to do is stay busy, talk to friends, keep my mind off it...A question that I still struggle with: If I die, who would miss me and for how long-?"