A Black Man’s Guide To Therapy . . . Just Do It
Recalling the experiences of my childhood, I can’t help but think back to the afternoons when my brothers and I would rush home to catch the next episode of Dragon Ball Z. In the aftermath of all of the after school pick-ups and a potential grocery store run by my mom, we’d gather around the television and tune into Cartoon Network for 30 minutes (more like 17 minutes with the commercials, I calculated one day) of our favorite anime. We’d watch the saiyans take on villain after villain, anticipating the inevitable plot twist when our hero’s strength would increase to levels not seen before on their road to victory. We never knew how they would get there, but we were always confident they would. Those days gave us all hope that faith combined with unity was much more powerful than the forces of evil that stood against it. It fostered our belief that superheroes are in fact — real.
There is one commonality among most kids. We all want to be a superhero. Whether your favorite is Goku, Storm, Superman, Wonder Woman, Spider-Man, Captain Marvel, Batman, Rogue etc., it’s likely that you have thrown on a towel as your cape, tested your ability to move objects with your mind or attempted to shoot webs from your wrists. Our childish imaginations take us to magical places. As we grow older, things change quite a bit. We face obstacles. We face disappointment. We lose hope. We stop believing. My imagination never died. The expressions of my power just shifted to delivering on what I felt to be more tangible promises. I was going to be Superman, no matter what. The reality is I always felt like I was running out of time — and from where I sit today, it’s hard to argue that I was wrong.
When I set out to create a safer and more secure world for my loved ones, I knew the journey would not be an easy one. I knew the burden of my appointed duty would be tough to carry.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Heavy are the shoulders that carry the encumbrance of generational trauma.
I vividly remember the night I found out my brother, Markee, was shot. It wasn’t the first time I received a phone call like that. Unfortunately, it also wouldn’t be the last. This experience was unique because at that point, he moved to Colorado to change his life. He had a son and two daughters to take care of. If he didn’t make it, the impact would be far more consequential. I knew I couldn’t do anything, so after the initial shock wore off, I went to shower. The tears were ready to come, but I didn’t allow them to. With my mind racing at 100 mph, I just stood there and let the water run. She always knew when there was something wrong. My body language was completely different. When she asked, I folded into her arms and the tears I attempted to avoid crying just a few minutes before came rapidly pouring down my face. That routine occurred far more times than I can count, but until this point, there’s likely only one person who knew.
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. If I could do it all over again, I’d probably start the night I saw the dead woman’s body on the side of the train tracks or maybe the day my happy neighbor lost his life to suicide or maybe even the day when I witnessed someone die right in front of me during my freshman year of college. It took me far too long to recognize how much trauma I carried. I wore that Superman cape for as long as I could. When I finally accepted that I needed a professional, it opened the doors to begin the healing process on the years of wounds I hid under my armor.
Here’s what I wish I knew:
1) It’s okay to seek therapy. It is pretty straightforward, but it needs to be said. You don’t have to carry those burdens alone.
2) Men commit suicide at nearly 4x the rate of women. There are quite a few factors that go into that, but if there is no other reason to speak with a therapist, this might be the one.
4) Sometimes it’s just important to have a venue to speak those emotions out loud. Therapy is a safe space by default. Don’t be afraid to let it out.
5) Therapy is more than about you. One thing that is easy to forget might be the impact that your trauma has on the people around you. Whether it’s directly or indirectly, the people connected to you are impacted by your choice to seek therapy. When you’re carrying certain weight, you’re likely not showing up as the version of you that your loved ones deserve to see.
5) Your pain eventually comes to the surface. Whether you are aware of it or not, those burdens you carry have internal and external repercussions. You might never know the impact until you’re sitting there wondering how you ended up making certain choices. It’s better to release those emotions with a professional than to have them show up in other ways.
6) Therapy is a small part of the work. We all wish there was a one stop shop for all of our healing needs, but the truth is, there isn’t. The work that needs to be done requires a huge commitment. You owe it to yourself and everyone you love.
7) Therapy is a form of self-love. It’s that simple.
8) Putting it off for another day might be too long of a wait. Just like anything else, we rarely get to the things we don’t prioritize. Start immediately.
The day my therapist looked at me and said there are few people who can handle the sort of tragedy I experienced, that is when I knew nothing about this is normal. When I placed my hand on my brother’s chest and couldn’t feel a heartbeat, I kept telling myself everybody has a story. They just don’t sound exactly like this one. I’d say that is the straw that broke the camel’s back, but there were a lot of those. My camel can’t even walk now.
I didn’t realize it, but my mourning has been going on for years. I was mourning before 2021. I was mourning before 2018. I just kept going as if it was all normal. None of it is. Someone said to me, “When change happens, it’s not just your past you have to mourn. You have to mourn the future too.”
Possibly more than anything, I’ve learned the importance of acceptance. Accepting the change, the loss and whatever the future brings are not easy things to do, but I take it day by day. That’s part of my work.
It’s difficult not to feel like I ran out of time considering all that happened, but hopefully you don’t experience that fate.
If you haven’t already begun your journey, now might be a good time to start.
I have no affiliation to either, but try one of these sites and find yourself a therapist.
It doesn’t matter how strong you think you are, the trauma is probably stronger than you realize. Be intentional about doing the work. You’ll be glad you did.
No matter what happens in your life . . .
No matter how tough it gets. . .
Remember . . . It’s gonna hurt, but it won’t kill you.
-TK
