Suicide is the sixth leading cause of death among Black women ages 23-34 (Vance et al., 2022). African American students were 14% of all first-generation students but 11% of continuing education students (Education Department releases racial data on first-generation college students, 2017). I share these statistics with you because they are connected to my most significant achievements. The most important one is my life! I am a two-time suicide attempt survivor. “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” This quote is from the illustrious Maya Angelou. I have a story inside of me, and I am here to share part of it with you.
I am thankful to say that I have defied being another death by suicide statistic. I live with multiple mental health conditions and am a survivor of trauma, childhood abuse, and emotional neglect. I have been in long-term recovery since 2006. I still struggle with navigating life’s mountain top and valley experiences, but I continue to press on to live a life where I have gone from surviving to learning how to thrive. Facing a life of adversity without a support system or understanding how to heal so you can become more than what you have been through can be challenging to overcome. I had this image about how my life should look—a carefully thought-out timeline of accomplishments and how I would look and present myself to the outside world. However, when that carefully thought-out timeline began to shift, and the image I presented to the world did not match what I had imagined, I struggled to see the value in myself or the potential in my life. This left me with deep-seated feelings of hurt, anger, disappointment, and unrealistic expectations of myself and others, in addition to depression. I did not know it then, but later, I discovered that I was experiencing grief.
Last year, I learned about a term called Disenfranchised Grief. I spoke with Dr. Helen Harris- LCSW-S, ACSW, DCSW, a Baylor University professor who teaches a Trauma Loss and Grief class. I shared how I had not experienced grief due to the passing of someone close to me. Then, I began to compare what I thought that experience of grief was like, but concerning my life and how entirely different it was from what I dreamed it would be. I tried to weave together the disappointment and anguish I felt at the time because of how my struggles with battling my mental health prevented me from being and living the life I desired to. Dr. Harris then gave words and meaning to my internal struggles to understand who I was, what I experienced, and how I would move forward with this new revelation.
Veronica Thelen, L.L.M.F.T., defines disenfranchised grief as “not usually openly acknowledged, socially accepted, or publicly mourned. Disenfranchised grief hinders grief resolution, causing the feelings associated with grief to persist for a very long time. Society disenfranchises grief and mourners by not recognizing one or more of the following: the relationship between the deceased and a survivor, the importance of the loss, or the need to be a griever. Establishing definitions of proper and improper mourning techniques is another way of excluding certain individuals, thereby disenfranchising them and their grief.” (Thelen, 2019) Learning about this type of grief and understanding how my mental health conditions, suicide attempts, and trauma impacted how I thought my life would look allowed me to forgive and have grace for myself. It helped me refocus my lens, process, and understand loss and mourning in ways I did not know. This was a game changer in my ever-evolving pursuit of healing.
Due to my life experiences, I wanted to help individuals and communities who went through experiences like mine. I desire to walk beside them, help them transition from survival, and learn together with whom they could thrive! I aspired to use my story to help bring awareness, education, and training and advocate for change in systems where mental health and suicide are heavily misunderstood and stigmatized. After researching various careers and occupations and talking with individuals, I soon discovered I wanted to become a Social Worker. Social Work is a broad field that would allow me to work in various settings. This field would also give me the creativity and flexibility to create a career where I could serve and effect change. This was how I wanted to help, and social work was how I wanted to effect change within this world.
Experiencing societal discrimination, stigma, and fear for people who struggle with choosing to disclose challenges with their mental health is real and has unfortunate implications. Furthermore, it can lead to challenges when deciding to share this knowledge with your place of employment. On January 8th of this year, I learned through a LinkedIn post about the untimely death of Dr. Antoinette Candia-Bailey. Dr. Candia-Bailey died by suicide. She was the Vice President of Student Affairs at Lincoln University of Missouri, an HBCU. As I read article after article, post after post, from those closest to Dr. Candia-Bailey, my heart sank. It was reported that Dr. Candia-Bailey shared in a letter she wrote that she faced mistreatment and bullying at the hands of her colleagues, specifically the university president. What is truly disheartening is that Dr. Candia-Bailey wrote her dissertation “My Sister, Myself: The Identification of Sociocultural Factors that Affect the Advancement of African American Women into Senior-Level Administrative Positions and faced what she sought to bring awareness to in hopes of making changes that would support other African- American women in academia. The research, stories, and content Dr. Candia-Bailey presented through her dissertation seemed to be pieces of her lived experience that are connected to her death by suicide. Reports noted that Dr. Candia-Bailey expressed experiencing feelings of depression.
“In Dec. 2022, Nursing Research released a paper detailing that Black women are less likely to report various symptoms of depression, including feelings of hopelessness and sadness. Alternatively, they have mentioned an inability to experience pleasure, irritability, self-criticism, and trouble sleeping. “Depression in Black women is real! We are not ‘super and strong’ in the sense that we do not feel or hurt. Our accomplishments, degrees, and successes do not exempt Black women from mental health challenges,” Lakeiya Dulcio, a Howard graduate student, research analyst, and Newark, New Jersey native, said. According to Columbia University, suicide rates among Black women have drastically increased over the last 20 years, with women aged 15 to 84 experiencing two deaths per 100,000 in 1999 to 3.4 per 100,000 in 2020. Black women and girls aged 15 to 24 had one of the sharpest increases as their rates rose from 1.9 to 4.9 deaths per 100,000 across two decades (O’Neal,2024).
This hit home, and I could see myself, my struggles, and my fears in Dr. Candia-Bailey's story. As a Black woman who experiences depression, the struggle is real—finding balance in showing up in my various roles yet learning how to care for my mental health and wellness in a society that does not understand mental health, let alone the intersectional parts of me that impact being able to function at work, home, in my community and society when experience a depressive episode. Dr. Antoinette Candia-Bailey’s story has brought the spotlight on the plights of Black women and how we experience various challenges with our mental health. As a future social work practitioner, I will honor Dr. Antoinette Candia-Bailey and remember her in my work to address these inequalities for not only Black women but other minoritized populations who deserve the resources, support, research, and funding that led to changes in policies that should save lives.
In 2022, I sought an organization focused on mental health awareness and advocacy. I discovered The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation. After reviewing their website, I contacted Kristi Wiley, the organization's Program Director. I shared my desire to volunteer along with my lived experiences and how the organization's work interested me from what I read about. That led to a meeting that allowed me to become a volunteer and certified to teach QPR on behalf of the Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation. That year, I was extended the honor of being a speaker at the JEHF 9th Annual Bring The Conversation to Light Luncheon. I could stand before eight hundred and fifty people to share my journey. Talk about a surreal moment!
This year, I am entering the final year of my master's degree in social work at Baylor University. During this final year, I am required to complete an advanced internship. I was fortunate to ask Kristi Wiley, the Vice President of Programs, and the current CEO, Matthew Vereecke if I could complete my internship with The JEHF. They welcomed me and went through the process of becoming a placement site with the Diana R. Garland School of Social Work. The rest is history! I am completing my advanced community practice internship with The JEHF, and I could not be more grateful to be exposed to the staff and the work they do to help address suicide and depression in the Ft. Worth community.
