Column: When the wolf cries are real

September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. 

While I am grateful for efforts to bring awareness and spread resources, the conversation around this topic always feels incomplete to me.

It seems the mainstream dialogue prefers to tip-toe around “uncomfortable” but necessary connections to understand the intersecting trajectory of systematic oppressions and poor mental health. 

Although mental illness is not the only factor that can lead to suicide, and not everyone with a mental illness has suicidal ideations, the National Alliance on Mental Illness reports that 90 percent of those who died by suicide suffered from a mental illness.

What is “uncomfortable” is getting some people to comprehend that if you are born with a particular shade of skin, ethnic background, socioeconomic status, sexuality, gender or geographic location, statistics for mental health start to show diverging patterns.

For example, Black Americans are 20 percent more likely to experience serious mental illnesses including PTSD and depression compared to the general population.

Native Americans use and abuse substances at higher rates than any other ethnic group and experience victimization at 2.5 times the rate of White Americans. 

LGBTQ individuals are three times more likely to have major depression or an anxiety disorder compared to their heterosexual counterparts. 

In addition, multiple studies have found a strong negative correlation between socioeconomic status and mental health.

People with these marginalized identities are not only more likely to experience poorer mental health, but are also more likely to not seek or even have access to services that cater to their well-being.

Stigma within the Black community often pushes individuals to turn to faith and family rather than seek professional help. This attitude exists because the community has endured generational oppressions that produced a culture that holds mental strength as an attribute for survival, while mental illness is a weakness we cannot afford. 

As with Black people, the persecution faced by the Native American and LGBTQ communities affects their abilities to seek and access services.

Economic barriers are a prominent aspect, with 26 percent of Native Americans living in poverty and 33 percent uninsured.

LGBTQ individuals make up 40 percent of homeless youth yet are only 7 percent of the total youth population. 

Trans people, especially those of color, are commonly denied professional services because of their identity. This leads to a reality in which 41 percent of trans people have attempted suicide at some point in their lives. Suicide is the second leading cause of death among Native American youths.

To be a part of these marginalized groups means to live in a heteronormative world fundamentally fueled by white supremacy and misogyny. It means I couldn’t go some days without having breakdowns rendering me unable to do my school work. 

It means I feel constantly overwhelmed with anger and frustration seeing people who look like me unjustly killed with no one held accountable. It means I still have to normalize my own sexuality to myself because I have to unlearn internalized hatred. 

It means that from Philando Castile to the Orlando shooting, this summer crippled me with a hopelessness that the pain could only end if I ceased to exist.

This is a reminder that systematic oppression is devastating and has real effects on our mental health.

I want you to know that I see you, I feel you and I love you. Please put yourself first and seek consultation from someone you trust. Surround yourself with a community that supports you.

If you suspect any sign of self-harming behavior or suicidal ideations from someone you know, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Line immediately at 1-800-273-8255.