I have issues.
My issues go beyond being fixed over a couple of lattes, a few memes, a funny Snapchat response and a command to be more grateful.
This is why I have a therapist.
On this, the last day of suicide prevention month, I just wanted to say, out loud, that it’s ok to seek professional help.
A friend posted a clip from The View the other day where the panel was discussing therapy. The two African American women made references to us not really “doing therapy,” like we’ve been taught to not share our problems with strangers and we just learn to work things out.
This is why I have issues.
This is why lots of us have issues; African American women, yes, but people in general.
We’ve been taught to keep our business to ourselves, fix it ourselves, pray our way out, just let it go, stop thinking about it, choose to not be depressed.
I have a therapist because I have wanted to jump out of a window after talking to people who love me but weren’t objective. They don’t hear me. They hear the culture that says, “if you just do this, you’ll feel better.” Friends and family often times don’t listen. They just want you to stop and “get over it.” They are not trained to help you break patterns. They are not trained to help you hear yourself without judgement. They are trained by the culture that says, “you should be able to get over this on your own and if you’re stuck, it’s your fault.”
I don’t need that.
I have a therapist.
I’ve had several therapists.
I believe my life is better because of it.
I am o.k. with you judging me because of it.
Perhaps I am alive because of it.