TK’s Blog
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A Black Man’s Guide To Therapy . . . Just Do It
I should have begun therapy long before I ever did, but I grew up with the misguided belief it meant I was weak and couldn’t handle the rollercoaster of this life like a man should be able to. I was foolish. With the amount of weight I carried, there’s no wonder I eventually fell apart the way I did.
I Don’t Want To Be Here Anymore
The past several years felt like a waste and I didn’t want to lose any more — no more loss of people I love and no more lost time. I had to keep my foot on the gas 24/7. I didn’t realize it until later, but I was running away from loss. My therapist brought it up. My dad called it out. My mentor reminded me. I was so afraid of facing loss again that I packed my days in an effort to avoid it. When I found myself staring at it again, I hit a wall so hard that placed me in quicksand. The words escaped my lips yet again, “I don’t want to be here anymore.” It felt like I was drowning and I had no idea what to do next.
Don’t Let The Pain Win
I woke up from the same nightmare I have been having for 2 years. My heart was beating rapidly and the darkness of the room covered all of the space around me. As much as I’d like to convince myself otherwise, there might not be such a thing as being completely healed. At least those are the cards I have been dealt.
I had no idea what depression and anxiety truly looked like until the events in my life brought a level of chaos to my doorsteps that was impossible to outrun. It felt abnormal. How could it happen? I worked on myself to prepare for the pain, but the beast was much larger than I anticipated.