Overcoming Me
Like many in the black community, I had a sense of humiliation surrounding depression and anxiety. I didn’t want a label to define me which is why I was totally against speaking with a therapist. I was terrified of being diagnosed and therein given a label. I was struggling with my own thoughts and doing it in silence. My mind was my enemy and I felt it was my war to fight on my own. After all, it is “my” mind. I had become my own worst enemy and soon I started to feel like suicide was my only option… I felt death was better than my suffering. Yet, I never went through with it wholeheartedly. My malti-poo is why...