What originally began as a brief visit quickly became a sister circle where vulnerability and support converged to create a healing experience none of us knew we needed. We spent the next several hours, yes hours, discussing relationships (familial and romantic), trauma, forgiveness, self-worth, and other topics important to women.

More than ever, individuals are beginning to reclaim their power and understand the importance of personal wellness and caring for one’s mental health. This is especially important for Black women, as we are often expected to go above and beyond in the workplace. We are seen as most useful because of our labor, and our humanity is rarely taken into account.

Depression takes time to heal and the journey is not linear, it’s full of peaks and valleys that can threaten the stability of your life, your work, and your relationships. As someone who lives with depression, I have to continually monitor my mind and body as well as shift my perspective on what’s “normal” to what’s healthy for me as an individual. Over the years, I’ve noticed a few telltale warning signs that my depression may not be in check.

The earth is abundant in healing tools for almost every modern woe. Even the ground we stand on has the ability to improve our mental health.

It’s funny to me that others always describe me as being so calm and at peace. I typically appear that way on the surface, but inside I’m actually hoping no one sees me flailing and trying not to capsize in my own ocean of emotions and anxieties.

Mental wellness is a topic that often gets ignored. As a culture we are quick to speak of the importance of our physical health, but when it comes to our mental state, as a collective, we have given it a back burner to everything else. This realization is unfortunate because depression is the most common mental health phenomenon affecting the post-industrial world. 

Two months. It’s been two months since I’ve graduated college. Even though this was a huge milestone, my mind was fixated on what I hadn’t accomplished. Senior year came with many anxieties and securing a job before graduation day was my biggest concern. Time had passed, and graduation had come and gone. However, there I was, unemployed and living at home. My goals seemed sidetracked and my dream remained pinned to a vision board.

As I lay on the floor crying, my only thought was “What the hell are you doing?”

I probably shouldn’t have been on the floor. It’s hard and it makes your ribs hurt if you lay there too long. No one should spend any serious time on the floor without sex or yoga (or both) involved. Regardless, that was where I found myself. My mind managed to convince me that not only did I deserve to be on the floor, I should stay there for half an hour.