CONTINUED- MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS P O S T T R A U M A T I C S L A V E S Y N D R O M E … T H E S T R U G G L E I S R E A L!
Not one medical professional educated me on postpartum depression or screened me for mental illness. Giving birth to my son gave me hope and the courage to be a better woman. Therefore, I put on the mask of“ superwoman” and began my life journey broken within.
In 1995 I became a wife and gave birth to my 2nd child. I was still wearing that mask, but I knew deep down inside that something wasn’ t right. Outside of pretending in the workforce and in the school setting, I was irritable and at times short tempered with my family. The 2nd pregnancy was met with a ton of support, a beautiful home, and much happiness, but the end result was the same. The post-partum depression was harder to manage yet again, the medical professionals provided little to no guidance as to what I was experiencing. Some of it was my inability to be vulnerable and trust those outside of my circle based on life experiences and my upbringing. I lived with several different family members throughout my childhood, and they all taught the same lesson, don’ t trust white people and what happens in this house stays in this house.
By the grace of God, I had started my undergraduate career as a psychology major and was met with an initial understanding of mental illness and discernment that I needed help. The university offered free counseling services, and I signed up immediately. My first experience with therapy was under the care of a white woman whose first question to me was I abusing my children. My initial thought was that my family warned me not to trust you but here I am. I felt offended but I wasn’ t angry because I knew that I could never hurt my children the way I had been hurt. I just never returned and put my mask of resiliency back on. After the birth of my 3rd child, I was even more depressed and angry on the inside. I recall arguing and throwing a glass jar across the room after my then husband made an innocent suggestion. Not only was I now a mother of 3 and a wife, I was a full-time student working on my master degree and working a part time job. I had an image to uphold and had been taught to suck it up and keep it moving which cost me my family, and my sanity. By the end of my 3rd year in graduate school, my emotions were getting harder to hide. I was eventually prescribed an anti-depressant that would serve as a helpful temporary solution. I needed holistic healing.
My healing journey began after I was stripped of everything that I had been using to cover up and shield my clinical diagnoses of childhood PTSD and major depressive disorder. I was in the middle of a challenging divorce, at the beginning of my professional career which was met with insecurity, my 3 children and I were homeless, and I was in major debt. The first step was seeking God like I had never sought Him before; the second step was securing therapeutic services for my children and I; and the third step was signing up with a local gym to provide physical movement and consistent care to our bodies during the transition. Healing is a process that takes time, and I have learned that the deeper the conflict and pain, the more work and effort is required. To learn about the deep-rooted family hurt and pain, I was able to research my maternal family history and discover that there is a significant generational link to depression, rejection, poverty, anxiety, and abuse just to name a few. It was important to my healing journey not only to recognize the generational connection but also to call it out and use it as a healing agent for myself and the generations to come.
Today, I practice daily meditation that allows me to be in alignment with God and have self-awareness. I practice intentional wellness that includes day and overnight retreats, mindful eating, exercise, and journaling. Dancing, spending quality time with loved ones, and vacationing brings me joy and I ensure that I tap into those areas that make me laugh out loud. Additionally, I am transparent and tell my story in accordance with God’ s plan and I continue to answer the call to mentor.
20 years later, I am still healing and praising God for removing the mask and giving me the tools to heal and intercede as a wounded healer.
Beloved, Your Mental Health Matters! 11