Stressball

I remember the exact time we had our Stepbrothers – “Did we just become best friends?!” – moment. You had come over to have dinner at my apartment in Queens, NY. When we were done eating the incredible 5 Star Michelin meal I created, we sat on the balcony and somehow the topic of mental health came up. You revealed your brother’s passing and the suicide of your friends. At which point I reciprocated by revealing the suicide of my big sister. We became friends years prior when our paths crossed at our temp retail positions at the Museum of Modern Art – one of the many random hustles in our New York grind. And yet, we didn’t know… all these years that we shared the same pains and heartaches that this world had to offer. Love you homie – and thank you for this beautiful piece.

Friend

When I think of my mental health it’s so many things that come to mind. When did my experiences originally start? What were my triggers in my moments of despair & uncertainty? How I felt after certain chaotic episodes? In trying to pinpoint the exact moment of my mental health discovery I can say that I contribute it to my early days as a child. Being that I faced numerous accounts of abuse mentally and physically as a child I didn’t have the voice of reason or wording to describe how those moments affected me mentally. Growing up amongst two other siblings I always felt out of the loop and casted out. I was the kid who was silent and didn’t speak until I was spoken too. I found it somewhat therapeutic to keep all my thoughts in my head and to mind my business, that way I wouldn’t have to face any sorts of discipline.

Besides experiencing isolation within my home it was the outside world that contributed to my mental state, especially school. From elementary to college feeling out of place ignited this self doubt and anxiety that triggered me to sometimes question my existence. Did I belong? Was I worthy enough? Even to wanting to continue to live. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get along with others and couldn’t manage my day to day, it was that I had no true understanding of life and what it meant to live for you and only you. I was too much of a people pleaser doing anything to make others around me happy. While days at a time I put on a façade and acted in pure bliss of happiness, majority of those times I was suffering. It was days of depression hidden behind forced smiles and fake laughs.

After leaving college I felt that my mental state was getting better, then everything shifted once again. It was October 2019 when I experienced the ultimate shakeup in my life. My mental health journey was sent into overdrive. After dealing with a friend committing suicide on the 20th, another on the 22nd and my brother getting killed on the 23rd, all within days of each other, I knew then I had to figure shit out. It wasn’t just about figuring out what life had to offer, but more of what I had to offer myself. Dealing with the hurt and agony of those 3 traumatic deaths I knew the only way to heal was to seek help. It took some time to find the right therapist that could understand my situation. Finding a therapist was like finding a new doctor, a barber, someone I could confine in and trust. Moreover, feel connected to. I knew how delicate my mental state was so I had to protect it. I had to make sure I was making all of the right decisions that would help me see it through.

As of today I can say getting a therapist has been my best investment thus far. I’ve been able to go through the process and realize that I’m worthy and have capability to live life according to my will and not others. Therapy has taught me to create boundaries for myself and those around me, it has helped me in identifying my self worth, and it has showed me the beauty in living. In the words of Julian Seifter, “You are not your illness. You have an individual story to tell. You have a name, a history, a personality. Staying yourself is part of the battle.”