Natalia Naman Temesgen: An honest conversation about mental illness
I'm finally entering the last weeks of pregnancy and Baby is doing very well.
To say that I'm excited is an understatement. But as the nearing reality hit me one morning, my mind went to a different thought. How will I feel afterward?
It's a sad indication of the cultural stigma around mental health that it's much easier for me to talk about my Type 1 diabetes than to discuss the bout of mild depression I faced in the months after my daughter was born. Both issues can have genetic roots, both can arise for no apparent reason in a healthy person's life, and both should be treated with a degree of respect and care.
Yet hearing someone talk about her diligent control of her diabetes and her efforts to manage post-partum depression make people feel impressed and uncomfortable, respectively.
It's especially difficult to discuss health issues like depression in the black community, as African Americans have a greater cultural bias against mental health professionals and health care professionals in general. The percentage of mental health professionals that are African American tops out at 4 percent, so there is a cultural gap in the treatment we receive as well.
We also tend to stigmatize and misunderstand mental illness at a greater rate, assuming that if someone is "going through a rut," the sole solution is more time at church, with family, or just waiting it out. Some of these things can be useful, but if that's the extent of help available, it won't fit the bill for every case, every time.
Last month, 28-year-old Sandra Bland was found dead in her jail cell. Sandra was a black woman pulled over for a minor traffic violation in Texas. The officer did not follow proper procedures for the traffic stop. The situation escalated quickly and Sandra was arrested. Within three days, she was found hanging in her cell, the medical examiner ruled it a suicide.
Her family cried foul. They didn't believe Sandra would kill herself. She had just gotten a new job and had good and bad days, but she was never medically diagnosed with depression.
This despite the fact that Sandra had posted a Facebook video earlier this year stating that she was suffering from "a little bit of depression as well as PTSD."
Maybe she wasn't suicidal before this ordeal, but prisoners are more than three times more likely to commit suicide than those on the outside.
Not to mention, what her family and community saw as someone impervious to depression -- a social activist, a strong woman, a "soldier" -- doesn't necessarily represent the fullness of her experience.
Strong people can feel weak. Happy people can feel listless. Ambitious people can feel purposeless, and if they need help getting back to themselves, they deserve it. Maybe that help consists of regular exercise, more sleep and healthier eating. Maybe it's the advice of a professional. Maybe pharmaceuticals. Maybe just hearing a loved one say, "I understand. I'm here."
In light of the mandate of our American culture to be stoic, industrious and upbeat at all times, it's no wonder that we are slow to come to a more productive view of mental health. But in the meantime, each honest conversation is a step in the right direction.
Natalia Naman Temesgen is an independent contractor. Contact her at nntemesgen@gmail.com
This story was originally published August 29, 2015 at 10:49 PM with the headline "Natalia Naman Temesgen: An honest conversation about mental illness ."