Lets talk about Depression, Suicide, Robin Williams and, Michael Brown.

*This post will also deal with the politically incorrect, uncomfortable subject of race. So beware.

On a sunny day on April 2003. I was 9 years old. That was the first day I was considering suicide. That was the day I decided to put a knife to my chest. That was also the day my mother and, I ran away from my dad and, we live in a battered women shelter.

I was diagnose with depression when I was 13 and, also with post traumatic stress disorder. I was suicidal since I was nine.

Why am I telling you this?

Well as we all know Robin Williams is dead because he committed suicide. I hate that phrase committed suicide but you know he killed himself. When I first heard that he committed suicide. I was like “Oh how sad, I wonder how he died. Did he have cancer? Did he have a heart attack? I hope he didn’t get murdered!” But he committed suicide which is just as bad as murder. When I realized he committed suicide it brought tears to my eyes. I was sad that he had manic depression. I was sad that he felt he couldn’t live any longer. I was also heartbroken because I knew that if I didn’t get help and, treatment, I could do that to myself.

As a Black woman I also know how hard it is to be black in America and, the oppression. When I heard about Michael Brown, I was thinking “Oh no not again. Not another senseless killing of a Black man. I don’t know the whole story but when you hear a story about a black teen who is male, gets killed by police, and, he was unarmed this weird feeling gets in the gut in your stomach because…

1. The killing was unfair and, you think it’s racially motivated.
2. You feel sad for him and his family and, friend. You put yourself in his and his families shoes.
3. No offense but you are afraid that your people are going to riot and, make a fool out of themselves, which makes them just as guilty as the police officer that killed Michael Brown.

Now, the reason why I’m talking about Michael Brown, Robin Williams, depression and, suicide is because these both tragic events happened on the same weekend. I’m going to be a little harsh here but IGNORANT PEOPLE, yes I said IGNORANT PEOPLE think one death or one person is more important than the other. People say “Why does this white man get more attention than Michael Brown.” I’m fed up with comments like that.

Also there are people calling Robin Williams selfish. Whether he was selfish or not, saying that will not bring Robin Williams back and, it will not help people who are suicidal. Calling people who committed suicide and people who are suicidal selfish is just a bad idea. If I get enough likes or views, I will tell you why on the next post.

Another thing Black people do not like talking about mental illness. I don’t think our community understands the subject of mental illness. Most communities don’t. Most blacks do not want to admit that they need help mentally actually, most people period don’t want to admit that they need help mentally because they are scared of letting people in their business. See Black people are a private people, we don’t like discussing personal problems with strangers which makes since but sometime everyone needs someone to lean on who is a stranger because strangers don’t judge. Which is why you see a therapist to help you understand what’s going on and/or a psychologist.

My point is that no issue is more greater than the other. Mental illness, racism, suicide, and police brutality are issues that we face today. They are equally important. Don’t tear people down if some people want to talk about Robin Williams, depression and suicide. Don’t knock people down if people want to talk about Michael Brown and, police brutality.

Now that I got that off my chest because that has been bothering me for hours, back to me. Yes, I tried to commit suicide twice, and thought about taking my life a lot but with a little help from the people that loved me, I can see that I have an amazing future ahead of me. I try to live everyday to it’s fullest because one of the things we can learn from Michael Brown is life is too short, you don’t know what tomorrow has in store. Another person who probably saved my life was a girl name Maria but that is another story for another time. A sad story that is.

If you know someone with depression, please give them a hug and, tell them I love you. When they are ready to talk to you about it, just listen. Don’t give them advice like “Get over it” or “be optimistic” or “Just be happy”. Just listen unless they ask for your advice. Just love them, that’s all you can do. So don’t get discourage if you don’t cheer them up. You can’t do anything but love them.

Have peace and, love in your heart

-Angelisa

Please if you are a victim of police brutality, or racism. If you are a victim of spousal or child abuse. If you are suffering from depression or other mental illnesses. If your loved one is suicidal or committed suicide. Please start your own blog and, tell your story. In our small way we can change the world by doing that. Statistic are a good thing to make people aware but I think sharing our stories is more powerful than that.

I appreciate you reading my long blog. Have a great day.

Advertisements

Mental Illness and, Domestic Violence: My Mothers Story

I will like to tell you another story about what happened in my childhood. My mother was a strong woman when I was little. She use to dress really nice and, she had a great career. She knew what she wanted and, in my eyes she was a fearless woman. Until the abuse began and, she started isolating herself and, was becoming worried a lot. She also had a lot of anxiety attacks and, there were days where she just stayed in bed. She also started to miss work and, she cry a lot. In 2001 or 2002 she was taken to the hospital. What happened was that she got in an “argument” with my father that day and, she was having an anxiety attack. She wanted to calm herself down and, she took too many pills. My neighbor at the time was worried so she took her to the hospital and my mom stayed there for a few days.

I was 8 years old at the time and, I was so worried. I think I cried the whole time she was away. This wasn’t the last time she went to the hospital. My mother has bipolar, depression, and, anxiety most likely because of the abuse. She takes 11 different medications. I also have depression and, I also have PTSD (Post traumatic stress).

My mom isn’t the only women who has an mental illness because of Domestic Violence. 50% of women who are living with mental illness suffered from some kind of trauma. That trauma can be sexual assault or physical abuse.

My mother is still a very strong woman.  There are some days she doesn’t like to do anything, there are others where she cries and get stressed out a lot. She cannot work in the workforce anymore. She receives disability. She wants to work again but her doctor says that is not a very good idea. I don’t know our lives is ever going to get back to normal again but we are trying to take it day by day. All I can tell you we are happier now than where we were 11 years ago.

http://www.fcadv.org/projects-programs/trauma-mental-health-domestic-violence

Mental Illness and, Domestic Violence: My Mothers Story

I will like to tell you another story about what happened in my childhood. My mother was a strong woman when I was little. She use to dress really nice and, she had a great career. She knew what she wanted and, in my eyes she was a fearless woman. Until the abuse began and, she started isolating herself and, was becoming worried a lot. She also had a lot of anxiety attacks and, there were days where she just stayed in bed. She also started to miss work and, she cry a lot. In 2001 or 2002 she was taken to the hospital. What happened was that she got in an “argument” with my father that day and, she was having an anxiety attack. She wanted to calm herself down and, she took too many pills. My neighbor at the time was worried so she took her to the hospital and my mom stayed there for a few days.

I was 8 years old at the time and, I was so worried. I think I cried the whole time she was away. This wasn’t the last time she went to the hospital. My mother has bipolar, depression, and, anxiety most likely because of the abuse. She takes 11 different medications. I also have depression and, I also have PTSD (Post traumatic stress).

My mom isn’t the only women who has an mental illness because of Domestic Violence. 50% of women who are living with mental illness suffered from some kind of trauma. That trauma can be sexual assault or physical abuse.

My mother is still a very strong woman.  There are some days she doesn’t like to do anything, there are others where she cries and get stressed out a lot. She cannot work in the workforce anymore. She receives disability. She wants to work again but her doctor says that is not a very good idea. I don’t know our lives is ever going to get back to normal again but we are trying to take it day by day. All I can tell you we are happier now than where we were 11 years ago.

http://www.fcadv.org/projects-programs/trauma-mental-health-domestic-violence

Afraid to have My Heartbroken: The affects of domestic violence

Image

 

 

I have this tremendous fear of relationships. I’m afraid that he would be a cheater, I’m afraid that he would be a jerk, I’m afraid that he would be abusive. Physical, emotional, and mental abusive. I don’t think a lot of people worry about that, they just dive right into relationships but I do. The reason why I’m afraid of relationships because my mother use to be in a abusive relationship with my father. I witness the abuse. I hate my dad and love him too. It is a strange feeling to hate and love someone. I feel that he ruin our lives. When my mother left my father, we had to go to a shelter. I was 10 years old at the time. When we left the shelter we had to go on welfare. Our church helped us out and, if it wasn’t for them I would not know where we will be. I had visitations with my dad for a year until one night, he came to our apartment unexpectedly, and he wanted to take me somewhere. My mother said no because she was making me a salad for dinner. My father didn’t like that and he got angry. They were arguing with one another and, then he punched her. He beat  her up really bad that night. The police came to the house and told my mom to file a restraining order. Haven’t seen him ever since. In November it would mark 10 years of not seeing my father.

After that experience you can say, I don’t trust many people. I don’t even trust them to be my friend. How can I trust to be in a relationship with anyone? I have friends but they wouldn’t understand the hurt I’ve been through. Their families are not perfect but they are both healthy and happy. They are not dysfunctional like mine. I can’t tell them about the pain. I see a therapist and, that works.

Well about my love life. I never had a boyfriend. That is not my choice, it just never happened. I never had a boyfriend on my 20 years on this earth. I have had crushes on guys before. One of the boys name was BM, he was my best friend but it turns out he was gay. Then I had a crush on was BB but he never paid any attention to me. I guess because of my experience I had with my father, I became unapproachable. Men don’t know exactly what happened in my life but they sense some kind of shyness or anger I have which makes me unapproachable to them. I think the real reason why I had a crush on BM because he was safe. I always knew he was gay even before he came out of the closet but I didn’t care. I was secretly hoping that he was just a really feminine straight guy but he was not. I was comfortable around him and, he was my friend I can be myself around and, that is why I developed feelings for him. He was nothing like my father at all. BB on the other hand scares me. He actually looks like a Calvin Klein model. The scary thing about BB is besides him being really sexy is that he reminds me of my father. He doesn’t look like my dad and I don’t think he is violent or abusive. It’s just that they share the same sense of humor and they are into the same kind of music which is rap music. My dad use to recite rap lyrics in the car. BB does the same. While BB is not abusive, my father and him share personality traits. It’s hard to explain. Even though BB is a nice guy, he just reminds me too much of my father and, I’m scared of that.

I am scared of relationships. I am scared to date and, that is not because I have social anxiety, it is because I can’t trust a person. People are like “You have to date! That is how you meet other people, and that is how you know if that person is good for you or not.” They may say things like you just need to look for the signs before you get into a relationship with or marry them even. I’m sorry to burst your bubble but the abuse between my parents did not start until two years after they got married. Did your parent marry too young? Did your parent marry only 3 months after they met? No. My parent dated for 3 years before they got married. Both in their late 20s. My father started off to be charming and caring but he became an abuser.

Like I said, I see a therapist. While she can help me with overcoming what I been through. I feel that she can’t help me with read guys and know if the are abusive. She can’t help me be fooled by a mans charm. She can’t help me do those things. I actually want to date, and I actually want to be in a relationship but I am scared to do so.  That is not happening. I don’t trust myself to find a guy and, I don’t trust anyone. Well, I wrote this blog because I am not the only person who is going through this. I’m not the only one who is going through this and, someone can benefit from this. My father was the first man to break my heart. How many people can say that? There father was the first man to break their heart. He abused my mother. Most people say it’s been 10 years move on but I can’t he’s my dad. He’s the first man to hold me in his arms. Let me tell you something if the first man that broke your heart is your father, without professional help, you are messed up for life. At least that is how it feels, and it does feel that right now. When the first man that broke your heart is your father your relationship with men is messed up. Your relationship with people are messed up.

 

 

 

 

Living With Depression: Overcoming the past.

Sorry for the typos I’m about to make.

I am a 19 year old girl with depression. This is my story. When I was a little girl, I was a happy kid. I was a normal kid. I felt normal. I thought I was in a happy family but my dad physically abused my mom and emotionally abused me. I thought it was normal. I figured out that this wasn’t right when the police came I almost thought what he was doing was normal. A couple of days after Easter, in 2003 something happened and we finally left. We left for good. We went to stay at a battered women’s shelter for a couple of months. I should add something before I go on my mother has anxiety, bipolar disorder, and depression. Her doctor says  that the abuse could have triggered it.

We left the shelter and found an apartment. She got an restraining order but I still had visitations with my dad. The plan was that he would pick me up at  my grandmas and drop me off.  Well, that plan went down the tubes. He found out where I went to school and where my mother and I lived. I don’t know what on earth happened to the restraining order. I don’t even know how he found us. He just did. He continued visitations with me. He picked me up from where I actually lived and dropped me off. Then the visitations just stopped after my mom had a surgery. November of 2004 he came one night unannounced. I got nervous. We were talking about school and stuff then he wanted to take me somewhere. My mom said no because she made dinner and it was time to eat. Then he just jumped on her and I yelled at my dad and told him to stop. He was choking her. I told him to leave and never come back. He stayed away. My mother got another restraining order and I never seen him again.

There is more to this story. Since the police, my mother, and I was afraid that he would come back. They told my principal and they emailed all of my teachers. When I went back to school after the incident my teachers looked at me with a sad face. It felt weird. Besides that incident the rest of middle school  was good. High school came along. It was hard. I didn’t do my best in most of my classes. I got depressed. I started cutting myself my freshman year. I felt that I didn’t have a lot of friends in high school. I didn’t trust a lot of people. I was diagnosed with depression and got on anti depressants. I am still  angry at my dad. I love and hate him at the same time. It’s weird. The weird thing is that my mom can move on from what he did to her but I still get angry about.

I just want you to know, if you are reading this and you are abusing your significant other or spouse. Please stop! If you can’t stop, break-up with them. If you two have children please stop abusing your spouse.

The reason why I am writing this blog is that I want people to see where depression comes from, for some people. I also wrote this blog because the anger of what happened  burst today. I cried all morning. I told my mom how I felt and I felt better. I should have talked to my mother a long time ago. Another reason why I wrote this blog is that a childhood friend of mine is getting married. She’s a few years older than me. Anyway there was this picture of the groom having his arms around his bride. They were hugging each other tightly in a loving way. They wanted his arms to show  him hugging her to symbolize that he would always protect her and she would always protect him. It was a beautiful picture. That picture got me thinking. I was thinking “Why didn’t my father protect my mother?” Instead he hurt her. I feel betrayed. I can never trust him again. I am trying to overcome the past and writing this blog help me. If you are suffering depression and/or domestic abuse, you are all in prayers.

P.S On a brighter note I’m getting treatment and tomorrow is a brand new day filled with hope. Don’t worry about me I’ll make it. I’m fine. Sorry for the typos.