As I am sitting here writing this piece, I am thinking about the many stigmas that are associated with mental health. I am thinking about my own mental health and how I used those stigmas to stop me from getting the help I needed on more than one occasion.
Why? Because I am a Black woman who was taught to always be strong and any sign of mental illness would portray me as being weak, angry and downright pitiful.
I remember the first time I realized my mental health was in jeopardy. I was 16 years old and lived in a household that looked perfect from the outside when in reality, I was living in my own internal hell.
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