Monday, August 29, 2016


Feeling Rebloggy

I first saw a psychiatrist for my anxiety and depression as a junior in high school. During her evaluation, she asked about my classes and grades. I told her that I had a 4.0 GPA and had filled my schedule with Pre-AP and AP classes. A puzzled look crossed her face. She asked about my involvement in extracurricular activities. As I rattled off the long list of groups and organizations I was a part of, her frown creased further....

I left that appointment with a prescription for Lexapro and a question that I would continue to think about for years.

The answer didn’t hit me all at once; rather, it came to me every time I heard a suicide story on the news saying, “by all accounts, they were living the perfect life.” It came to me as I crumbled under pressure over and over again, doing the bare minimum I could to still meet my definition of success. It came to me as I began to share my story and my illness with others, and I was met with reactions of “I had no idea” and “I never would have known.” 

I don't think "high-functioning" just covers over-achievers with high grades.

I think high functioning depressed women in the black community are called "strong black women."  And "Strong Black Woman" can over-achieve in the areas of being a mother, a lover, a wife, household handyman and cook, CEO, head errand runner, car pool driver --- making it all look like everything's jake while hiding the fact that she's been feeling like she's drowning

...for years and years on end. 

Read More: