Relax Relate Release Into Mental Health Awareness

Preface

Now this is a topic that’s very near & dear to my heart. And I had initially intended to post this in its entirety on the very last day of May. But in the end, I’m glad I didn’t rush the process; because this thing has gone through so many edits & revisions in the last month & a half. And I hope what’s said in this lengthy ass passion project will be relatable to some of you out there. 

Introduction

“When times are tough & I’m feeling blue; 3 words of wisdom...Woo Woo Woo!!!” -Sinclair James

Remember that episode of Living Single when Overton was trying to get over his bozophobia & Khadijah was spiraling so out of control that her mama told her to go see a therapist? When Dr Jessica Bryce, played by none other than my fav Jasmine Guy, recognized some signs of depression & anxiety manifesting in Khadijah, she says to her, 

“Depression? Now...that’s when you sit around all day eating cookie dough & crying at Negro college funds commercials...” -Khadijah James

And then afterwards, Maxine’s animated ass came storming up in there all concerned about her best friend seeking some professional counsel: 

“God! You should’ve come to me...What’s the problem...anxiety, low self esteem, obsessive thoughts of random arson...I’ve been there Girl!!!” -Maxine Shaw

So in honor of Borderline Personality Disorder/Mental Health Awareness month, I’m going to share my own personal life experience in dealing with mental illness & hopefully by doing so, offer up some encouragement for anybody else who maybe going through similar rough patches in their life. I’d also like to highlight some quick tips that I think will be useful for those who want to know how to support a loved one with mental illness. 

Here’s a common quote from the uninformed:

“Well, if I can’t tell that you’re handicapped then ain’t nothing really wrong with you!” -The Uninformed

First off...let’s start out with this little fun fact; mental illness does not have just one specific look. The whole misperception that if a disorder is not a visible one (does not manifest itself physically) then it doesn’t count, is problematic & should be tossed out immediately. 

So there’s quite a variety of categories floating around out there in the land of psychopathology. We’ve got personality disorders (BPD), cognitive disorders (Alzheimer’s), developmental disorders (Autism) mood disorders (Bipolar), anxiety disorders (PTSD), dissociative disorders (MPD), intellectual disorders & the list goes on. And the severity of one should not be compared to or contrasted with another.

My Journey 

The makeup of my psychopathology includes Borderline Personality Disorder, Major Chronic Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder & Avoidant Personality Disorder & I wasn’t diagnosed or treated for these things until well into adulthood. 

So basically I started out life as a very sensitive, very introspective kind of child. I’ve always had low self esteem & been prone to long bouts of morbid ideation (having feelings of being better off dead as opposed to the desire to kill oneself) since grade school. And by the time I got to high school I was already super world-weary. But I tried my damnedest to snap out of it though, by the time I got to college at SU...through extracurricular groups & a semi active social life. Though these experiences were fun & interesting, they didn’t help.

So while most of my peers freshman year were struggling with homesickness and new-found independence, I was just trying to navigate the college experience with undiagnosed disorders that affected my concentration, anxiety, energy, eating habits and sleep cycle. My grade point averages would wax and wane whenever I had been spreading myself a bit too thin; like going from academic probation to the Dean’s list in the same year, for example. The consequences of dealing with my disorders untreated really took its toll by Junior year when my level of performance on all fronts began to drastically decline. (Shout-out to my short lived time as choir historian.)

Lemme tell you when I absolutely should’ve been diagnosed...

So eventually I got around to emailing my professors to tell them that I had been suffering from severe depression & suicidal ideation; and asked if they would be willing to give me incompletes instead a failing mark for that Fall, so that I could complete all of their assigned coursework over the next semester. And just about all of them agreed to this; but not before my AAS professor (concerned about my mental state) called DPS to come scoop my unsuspecting ass up from my Slocum Heights apt & whisk me away to psychiatric services. I was filled with all kinds of embarrassment & indignation as I sat there in that room, across from this strange little white fellow who looked like he may have just been fresh out of college him damn self. But more importantly, at that age, I was too concerned with what other people’s perception of me was & didn't want to deal with being labeled as that kind of crazy. I was reluctant to even admit that I may have needed help beyond my friends or church ministers expertise; & I was unwilling to talk to any of the counselors there to begin treatment. By law they couldn’t hold me there so I left & went on about my day. (Which was also the day Jesse Jackson was scheduled to give his lecture over at Hendricks Chapel. And I wasn’t about to miss that event for the world; nervous breakdown or nah.)

I spent the rest of my time at SU trying hard to be someone I wasn't & prolonging the inevitable. 

When graduation finally crept up, I had a lot of conflicting feelings about the whole event. It was disappointing & slightly embarrassing that my mom ended up being the only family member of mine to show up & celebrate with me, my gpa ended up not quite being exactly where I’d wanted it, all of my graduate school applications had been rejected, I had no job or internship to look forward to, & worst of all, I had to come back to the hellhole I called “home” on prospect ave; to once again share a space with the court jester of deadbeat narcissists worldwide, my forebear aka father...

Now since “father” is a generous term, my brother & I have long since dubbed him Voldy, short for Voldemort of course. Shoutout to all my Harry Potter stans out there...

Voldy was a highly abrasive, manipulative little scamp who had an insane sense of entitlement to other people’s things & accomplishments; a kind of misogynistic egomaniac that should not have been permitted to have kids; the type that never deserved children. This man has called me everything under the sun both to my face & behind my back from an “educated bum” to an unworthy whore. He’s even likened me to a pit bull he claimed he once owned, who “turned on him outta nowhere” & just bit the hell out of him one day.

Our living quarters got worse with each passing year, not just because of his hoarding tendencies but the building itself was just falling apart & most of the decent tenets had already moved out anyway. These were things I never spoke about with my friends at SU because, I guess back then I rationalized that as long as it wasn’t physical or sexual abuse, then it wasn’t a big enough deal. I also wasted a lot of time giving him benefit of the doubt; convincing myself that in spite of all his ridiculousness “he never really meant any harm.” But I do seem to remember a select few who used to wonder why I was always one of those students enrolled in every summer session, always the first to arrive & last to leave during the regular semesters too. And it was basically because my home life was stupid & I was actually super relieved to have an “away-college” experience. But when my graduation weekend rolled around I had to come face to face with the fact that I was gonna be stuck in this toxic situation indefinitely. And I don’t process that level of ambiguity or lack of control well at all.

My homelessness started a year after graduation when Voldy got himself into one of his moods & thought it’d be a grand idea to kick me out. By this time I was on my 2nd terrible job & barely staying afloat. I spent that 1st year of destitution mostly between my aunts place & a slew of coworkers/friends apartments. My rock bottom was when I found myself in a raggedy little illegal sublet with an insufferable bitch I had to call roommate. And not long after this, was my first weeklong hospitalization at the abysmal Bronx Lebanon psych ward. A month after getting out of there, I decided it was finally time to rustle up the courage to sashay my crazy ass right on down to the assessment shelter...

So in writing this, it was kind of a struggle for me to figure out just how to talk about my issues with self harm. The last thing I wanna do is assault anybody’s eyes with gratuitous imagery or be overly explanatory...

But it’s my house & I live here...

So Ima just tell it like it is...

Boom, check it: I started cutting while homeless, shortly after I lost my virginity at the ripe old age of 23. So...I was fairly late in the game because typically most kids start cutting way before then; like during adolescence. 

For those who don’t know, cutting is when someone deliberately slashes their body with a sharp instrument of their choosing, causing minor to severe wounds & scarring. And it doesn’t always have to be with razors; it could be knives, scissors or broken glass they find somewhere...

People engage in self destructive habits for all kinds of reasons, it’s different for everybody. And for a good long while, I was having the damnedest time trying to fully articulate what drove me to it. For years it was often my first reaction to moments of scathing anger or extreme brokenness. I can also be really hard on myself & have a hard time accepting my weaknesses & shortcomings. So at some point the habit evolved into a kind of punitive reaction to failure. And the act of cutting itself, can be a very dissociative experience for me; something that’s hard to describe. All I can say at this point is that it’s a reflection of my inability to effectively deal sometimes with heightened levels of negative emotions/thinking brought on by stressful situations and/or difficult people. 

Now its been my understanding that the sight of this kind of scarring can confuse and even sadden most people, especially those who care about you the most. So in an effort to be mindful of my loved ones feelings, and to avoid inappropriate questioning from random people who don’t matter...I usually conceal these ugly scars with arm warmers and fingerless gloves worn all year round; since my go-to areas are the forearms & wrists. I’ve gotten a little bit better with the impulse to self harm over these last 8 years but it’s definitely still something I struggle with. Maybe things could’ve turned out different if I had gotten the help I needed at an earlier time. I certainly would’ve had a much better college experience first time around if I had even half as much insight back then as I do now into how my disorders affect me. But that was then & this is now!

Now I am in no way saying that I have arrived. And it may have taken me 5 years of homelessness, provisional housing, & awkward roommate situations to get here; but I’ve finally made it to my quaint little one bedroom apartment, that I share with no one else but Huey. In addition to that, I’m currently pursuing a second Bachelors at a fabulous little CUNY near me, in subjects that are much more in line with my dreams & aspirations; and it feels amazing because classes are the highlight of the week for me now. (FYI: pursuing a second BA is actually much easier than the first time around because you’re only required to focus on your major’s core curriculum.) And I look forward to going all the way up to doctorate status, being a holder of fifty-leven degrees, & becoming an official member of #TeamTypingFast 

Bottom line; I may not entirely be where I want to be, but I’m as thrilled as a cats whiskers (Bowie/Ellen reference) that I ain’t where I used to be. I have my home, my health, my soul sister, my tribe, & my puppy. And hopefully one of the takeaways from me sharing all these perfectly wretched details is that; if my strange ass could get through all those lovely doses of foolishness & misery, than you certainly can too.

Listen, Life is hard. And to survive out here in these streets, we all gotta find our joy wherever we can get it & then hold on to that thing tight.

And when in doubt...relax, relate, release!

Lessons Learned

And speaking of Whitley Gilbert! 

Remember when her & Juleesa used to go see Dr Langhorne for therapy? Played by the hilarious Debbie Allen, Dr Langhorne sure did have some gems: 

“The only thing you can control is how you feel! Not how you feel but how you deal with what you feel that is real. You’ve got to Relax Relate Release into reality...” -Dr. Langhorne

So now I’m going to attempt to give some tips on how to deal with mental illness: 

Establish a support network amongst your loved ones.

And this doesn’t have to be a large gaggle of people; 2 or 3 is just fine if you feel that’s all you need...

Identify your triggers. 

For me, I’d have to say my biggest ones include feelings of disappointment, embarrassment, abandonment & rage that usually stems from condescension, mistreatment of some kind or rare instances of lost friendships that once meant a lot to me. Figuring out your triggers can sometimes require a certain amount of time alone to reflect & ponder on these things. But be sure to maintain some balance in doing this so that you’re not alienating yourself from your loved ones...

Don’t be afraid to talk to somebody about what you’re going through.

Whether that means going to confide in someone from your own personal support network or going outside your comfort zone to talk to a licensed medical professional. And with regards to therapy, sometimes I like to suggest coming up with an idea of the things you’d like to work on. Outlining specific goals for your treatment can definitely help the therapist to help you.

Organized support groups can do wonders for the healing process. 

I reckon one of the reasons why is because you’re spending time & connecting with people who have had similar life experiences as you. Support groups can help you negotiate those rough times & they just have a way of making you feel like you’re not so alone.

Don’t neglect your basic needs.

The older we get the more important it is that we prioritize self care. This is easier said then done, especially when we’re stressed out & feeling generally terrible. When my symptoms decide they want to worsen, I become forgetful, I can’t concentrate, I don’t go outside, I lose all interest in even the things I love doing most & I either sleep too much (hypersomnia) or not at all (insomnia.) But we mustn’t forget to take care of ourselves by eating enough throughout the day, staying hydrated, working in the time for a little exercise & sleep. And, I think the ladies over at the Gettin Grown podcast say it best when they cap off their shows each week with the soft reminder to always,

“Drink your water, mind your business & moisturize your skin...because your Black will crack if it’s dry.” -Jade & Keia

If your physical health demands treatment, don’t ignore the signs. Seek some medical care. 

Let a medical doctor take a gander at you from time to time. At this point we all have some knowledge that both stress & physical health can have profound affects on mental health. And nobody else knows your body better than you do, so if you feel like something is off, go seek some treatment. I can’t stress enough how important it is for us to establish a working relationship with our healthcare providers. And don’t be afraid to ask questions & challenge some of these doctors when necessary; or even get second & third opinions on a diagnosis, like what Dorothy had to do in the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome episode of The Golden Girls. And lastly, it is okay to do some of your own research on more holistic approaches & remedies, especially if the side effects to certain prescribed medications are too extreme for you & your body to deal with.

Never waste your time trying to explain who you are to people who are committed to to misunderstanding you.

Very self explanatory but still, certainly easier said then done. And in my case, this can be very triggering depending on the dynamics of the relationship I have with said difficult person. 

Steer clear of the trap of toxic positive thinking.

I remember once back in the day there was a sweet simpleton who suggested the “Fake it til you make it” approach to me. I believe his words were something like, “Don’t worry, just fake the happiness. Fake the happiness & then one day the happiness will be real...” Magically, I reckon...Chyle please. Sometimes you just gotta allow your inner Daria to shine right on the hell through. And the avoidance of all things challenging, unpleasant or even confrontational, as if it’s some kind of antidote to all things negative in life can potentially do more harm than good. Y’all saw Inside Out! 

Sleep & meditation/prayer are vital to the healing process.

First, sleep helps your body recover from the stress, injuries & soreness of the day. Secondly, and you don’t have to subscribe to anybody’s religion in order to do so, but consider taking the time to develop your own meditative practice because it helps to relax the mind and can work wonders on enhancing inner resilience & love of oneself. And finally, many people who consider themselves God conscience, who believe in a deity, who have faith in a Higher Power, can use contemplative prayer to connect with God and edify their spirit.

Never forget to treat yourself with some compassion.

Try to be aware of when you may be thinking negatively about yourself & come up with strategies to reverse it. What I try do sometimes is imagine what my reaction would be if I ever found out that somebody else was talking to any of my loved ones in the same way that I talk to myself. And the mantra that IAmZoe’s messy ass puts at the end of his videos always brightens up my mood when I’m feeling particularly worthless: 

“God only made one you. And if you don't be you, nobody else will.” -GotDamnZo

Find catharsis in something constructive that you love. 

Indulge in some of your hobbies & recreational activities. This can take the form of anything, like journaling, gaming, reading, dancing, binge watching your favorite shows & so on. I for one, spend a lot of time cosplaying & being emotional support human to young Huey over here. We go just about everywhere together & there are many days when his reliance on me for his well being is the only reason I’m even awake & out of bed.

You know...Jenifer Lewis said something I found really inspiring when she was on RuPaul What’s the Tee podcast last year. When asked what the message is that she wishes for everyone to take away from her memoir The Mother Of Black Hollywood, she says: 

“I wrote this book so that anyone who reads it would just take one more step because I did. And I don’t know how I did it...but it was because I had a passion. It was because I had a dream...” -Jenifer Lewis

Quick Tips

Now for those of you figuring out how to be there for a loved one suffering from mental health issues, I say: 

Listen to them. Believe them. And take them seriously.

Never be dismissive of someone else’s experience, even if you don’t fully understand where they’re coming from...

For instance, there’s a part of me that can appreciate how most people tend to believe & enjoy the mask that I wear to conceal my issues (it low key makes me think that I may have a small talent for some acting) but that’s exactly the point; what’s presented to the world is a mask. So on the rarest of occasions when I might actually open up to someone about why I’m not feeling well, sometimes I’m met with responses like “Well what you got to be depressed about?” “Well I don’t think anything’s wrong with you so you’re fine.” I’m sure some of these people probably think that they’re being encouraging or supportive in some way, but in my case, it has the opposite effect & might even be infuriating depending on who it’s coming from. 

Educate yourself a little on their diagnoses as best you can.

And try to be mindful of any disturbances in their usual behavior so that you can act accordingly.

Be aware of & continue to work through your own judgements, biases & criticisms about mental illness. 

It’s very easy for the uninformed to demonize & shame people with mental illness. It’s also a little surprising how many of them don’t even realize that this is their attitude until it’s pointed out to them. 

Don’t patronize them!

Just because someone has a mental disorder, even to the point of disability, doesn’t make them stupid or less than.

Let them know you’re there for them.

A shoulder to cry on every now & then is all a person really needs sometimes. But be mindful of establishing your own boundaries too; especially if the person is unaware that they may be draining or taxing on you at times. And offer whatever other resources you think may be helpful, like some hotline info (like the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, 1.800.273.8255), E-therapy suggestions (like the Talkspace wave), a good hospital or outpatient clinic you may know of in their area, home health care programs, etc...

Okay! That turned out to be a lot longer than I intended but hopefully this can help someone. 

And in the immortal words of Hillman’s own Dr Relax Relate Release Langhorne:

“That’s enough of that dammit!” -Dr. Langhorne