To my dearest,

Our depression is real. Take my mental health seriously. Do you know the trauma I have experienced before turning 18? Can you imagine only knowing hopelessness, I can. My bare necessities are hard to come by why must simple things be so difficult. You know I wonder why in my community suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death between ages 15-24. You know it is far too common hearing my sisters and brothers wanting to give up because living has become too much, it's exhausting they say. Our depression is real. Take my mental health seriously.

Why are blacks more likely to experience endless sadness yet receive very little help? Don’t you all care? Can’t you see me when I finally make it to my appointment and tell you I can’t take it anymore, can you help? Are you aware you’re not just treating me but my family as well. You see education beats stigma but if you don’t see me and I mean really see me you’ve yet again failed. Between misdiagnoses, pure disbelief and denial of my pain I’m yet back to square one. You say I’m angry I say I’m depressed. You say I’m lazy, no I’m depressed. You say I don’t care and simply ungrateful, no I’m depressed. Our depression is real. Take my mental health seriously.

Educate me, educate my mom, educate my dad. Educate my siblings and grandparents. Our depression is real. Take my mental health seriously.