Black men's mental health

Mental health is a taboo subject for many American men, but in particular, African American men tend to have a difficult time discussing their mental health needs. Unfortunately, within our communities, there is a strong stigma against showing vulnerability, carrying the diagnosis of mental health issues, and seeking help for these issues. Our culture, toxic masculinity, and the current socioeconomic and political environment make it difficult to address mental health issues in Black men.

How bad of a problem are mental health issues for Black men?

Some sources say that 7% to 8% of us will develop depression during our lifetime. My public health training would suggest that this number is probably an underestimate due to a lack of screening in the community.

The suicide rate for Black men far out paces that for Black women. 72% of all Black male suicides were accomplished by the use of a firearm.

There is a strong correlation between alcohol and substance use and abuse and poor mental health outcomes in Black men. The correlation is stronger than it is for white men, white women, and Black women.

Black men are less likely to be treated with medications that will reduce the severity and occurrence of behavioral health episodes.

There are many causes for the behavioral health issues that we face. Systemic and structural racism has caused many of us to feel as if we don’t count and that we aren’t important to the fabric of America. Personally speaking, one of the things that makes me weary is this feeling that the people around me are afraid of me or are looking at me as if they expect that I am going to do something illegal. Other issues that play a role in the poor mental health of Black men include poverty, past trauma, and feelings of hopelessness. This isn’t an all-inclusive list but I think that it serves to show that there are a great many issues that plague our health.

So, how do we go about healing? That is the million-dollar question. I’ve been suicidal before and even attempted suicide once. I also suffer from PTSD; when Eboni and I met in 2006, there were several years where I was afraid to go to sleep around here because there were times when I would wake and not know where I was, who she was, or who I was. I would usually act accordingly. One step towards healing, however, comes when we acknowledge that we have an issue, and we make the courageous decision to seek help. Eboni helped me to find a VA therapist in 2013 or ‘14 and while the therapeutic relationship wasn’t a positive one, it was my first step towards healing. Another huge step, I think, and one that some of my brothers may disagree with, is creating space for other Black men to feel safe enough to discuss their issues with me, to cry if they need to, or just have a shoulder to lean on when they need to. I can’t claim to have all the answers but the suicide of the Black police officer, Clyde Kerr hit me hard. He was a young man who, by all accounts, was a good soul and had a life of good to look forward to. As I’ve thought about my own life and the lives of my relatives and friends, I recognize the trauma’s that we’ve all been through and I realize that if we continue to carry these burdens, they will break us all. The strongest man can only take so much.

As I approach the start of my medical education, I know that I will be placed under a whole new set of demands and stressors. I promise to mindfully make time for my self-care, and that includes my mental health. And I promise to be there for my brothers, without judgement and with open arms. Whatever pains you, we’ll get through together.

#suicideprevention #suicideawareness #BlackMenCry