Wednesday, October 3, 2012

I am not a Strong Black Woman. I am a Human Being and I am in pain.


I just got off the phone with a relative. I told them that I wanted to see a psychiatrist because, amongst other things, I believe I have OCD and I have had clinical depression for years. They became angry and told me that I don't need a psychiatrist, I just needed to "sit my ass down" and that I was a Strong Black Woman. I was shocked.

 "Lot's of people have OCD. Who cares?"

But it is ruining my life.

"You just take everything as a learning experience and then you move on."

But this thing is crippling my life. I need help.

"Being a Strong Black Woman doesn't mean that you can't have a break down. It means that you don't let situations in life keep you down and you just keep going."

"I'm seeing the psychiatrist." I said. "Whatever." they replied, "I don't agree." *click*

And this is why we are dying.

 Why is seeking professional help from a trained, knowledgeable and licensed therapist a sign that I, as a Black Woman, am weak? Who ever said that my being born a black female should mean that an essential part of my humanity- the right to succumb to pain- should be invalidated? How am I stronger than anyone else? Why do I have to be super human? Does God not count my tears?

Last week, I was reading Youtube comments on the trailer for the movie Dark Girls. The two comments rated the highest were ridiculing the women in video for complaining instead of celebrating their color and one even said that dark skinned girls aren't the victims they make themselves out to be. Why is it that when other people kick us down, they turn around and ridicule us for crying out in pain?

What kind of people are they? What right has anyone to reduce me to a color or to a stereotype that strips me of all the DNA and privilege of being a human? I am in the worst and most incredible amount of pain that I have ever been in. I can't tell you how many times this past month alone I have considered suicide. I am drowning inside. I am suffocating. Sometimes I really do think it would be better if I wasn't here. What on earth did I do to deserve such dismissal of my life? What human law did I violate that renders my crushed and bleeding soul invisible? What. Did. I. Do.? I will never understand it. Why would you care? If you aren't going to be there for me and support me when I tell you that I am hurting, then just what the fuck do you care if I go and get myself help? If you aren't going to save me, then what is it to you if I save myself? If you aren't going to wipe my tears, then why let it bother you if they're falling? I'm cracked. I just don't know how else to say it. I'm absolutely shattered and I don't know how to get myself back together.

Why does my breaking heart offend you?