Why has society put such a stigma on mental and emotional health?

We have become accustomed to putting our mental health and even our emotional health last. That’s when we see ourselves declining and trying to figure out why we are feeling so down. We work and work or even we single mothers just put our children’s needs before ours. I’m guilty of never taking time for myself even if it’s just enjoying time alone without my children being with me. These last few years have taken a toll on me mentally, physically, and emotionally. I decided to put myself first, especially after the struggles in life that I’ve dealt with, from surviving sexual assault to surviving domestic violence and now becoming a breast cancer survivor. 

Since I was a child, I have always wanted to speak to a therapist because I knew it would be healthy for me but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to. It wasn’t until I became an adult and mother that I finally decided to go after multiple mental breakdowns. No one was hearing me cry out for help but when I looked at my kids, I knew I didn’t want to deal with the mental turmoil and depression I had been experiencing for years. So, I took the time for myself but all the therapy I had gone through didn’t prepare me for the stress and fear I have experienced since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was diagnosed on September 28, 2020, one month after my 30th birthday and 10 months after leaving an abusive relationship. I put off going to the doctor because I thought my lumps would go down or disappear but they just got bigger. The initial appointment with my primary care doctor wasn’t as bad as the appointments leading up to the mammogram, ultrasound, and biopsy. I remember the day of my mammogram was chaotic and with my twins only being 4 at the time of my diagnosis I had to take them with me due to not having a sitter and I wanted to keep what I was going through to myself…something I now realize was a big mistake. After almost not being able to have the mammogram done, they were able to do it then I had the ultrasound, and that’s when I slowly started to break down. When they came back and said I needed a biopsy I almost broke down in tears but the nurse saw my face and instantly said stay calm this doesn’t mean it’s anything bad. But no matter the words she said to me I just knew it wasn’t right. Walking back felt like the longest walk ever and like I was floating because my legs were weak. 

Fast forward to a week after the mammogram to the biopsy. After the radiologist started my needle biopsy and stated omg it’s so many, that sealed the deal for me. I knew that I had cancer and I still wasn’t prepared mentally or emotionally for the day my doctor called me and told me my results were in and they needed me to come in the office. She walked in with tissues but I had told myself I wouldn’t break down, but of course, I did. I went numb, I was angry at myself, I was sad, every emotion you can think of I experienced. After hearing that news, I was told I can go home. Like wow that’s it you receive life-changing news and you don’t get offered any help to cope with the news. I was an emotional wreck for days.

So, I did what I knew best putting on a façade that I was ok but internally the pieces were falling apart. But why do I continue to hide that part of me? Maybe because I don’t want to hear about how strong I am and how I got it no matter what you always seem to make it. Being strong ugh it’s a 6-letter word that has so much meaning and power behind it but yet I hate it so much. Whenever I tell someone my story that is the first thing, they say then it’s oh you look good though.

I don’t want to be strong every day of my life and guess what it’s ok to not be. I have a village that picks up the days I am feeling weak and just don’t want to be strong anymore. I think people look at cancer survivors and patients and hold us to a higher standard. Like why can’t we be weak and vulnerable like everyone else we are human too. 

Although I see myself spiraling most days after receiving my diagnosis, I used that to my advantage and joined multiple breast cancer communities and have a therapist that helps me weekly. Every day I wake up in pain from my hormone medicine, and with tears running down my face I tell myself, Tan don’t give up you have two little ones looking up to you and need you. You may have lost your breast but you are still here, still standing, and still able to tell your story to other women going through the same thing as you. You’re still the same loving and kind woman, mother, daughter, sister, friend, cousin, and most importantly survivor you’ve always been. 

I am unique 
I am beautiful
 I am loved 
I am imperfect
 I am a survivor
 I am TAN!