LaKisha

LaKisha

Pushing back against silence and shame

“It won’t be painless, it won’t be quick, but God will use you. We’ll use this mess for good. Don’t be foolish or naive, but don’t despair either—with God’s help you will get through this.”

On that day when I first read this, I was planning to die by suicide.

There are moments in life that shift our timelines and alter our destinies; moments that provide meaning, purpose, and pause. For LaKisha, this moment came in the form of words etched on a page, pills still in hand, and the plan still in place. Yet, these words altered her destination, provided her comfort, and helped reshape her perception of her mental health.

After enduring a difficult divorce and experiencing a period of homelessness, LaKisha felt as if she had lost everything and that redemption was out of reach. However, through the intervention of her church community, therapy, and her tribe, LaKisha was able to see the way out of what she names her “pit moment.”

LaKisha has carried these words with her as a reminder of her resilience in her day-to-day life; they appear on her dashboard, phone, vision board, and even in discussions surrounding destigmatization with her own clients.

Yet, she emphasizes it is not just this adage that has brought her toward her mountaintop—it is the culmination of support, vulnerability, and becoming the trailblazer she needed.

It’s like I got out and remembered, ‘OK, God, you told me go through this, but I’m here for a purpose and it’s going to help other people too.’ ... because sometimes people just feel like, ‘What’s the point?’

This is the point. This passage, this one quote in that book is the point that God has more for me to do.

Deconstructing Stigma participant LaKisha - person in green jacket

As a Christian and a preacher’s kid (also known as a “PK”), LaKisha shares her story to remind her community that living with a mental health condition does not happen in isolation, and that it is not only OK, but also essential to combine faith with therapeutic measures.

Faith and prayer are not a substitute for mental health care—and I mean that. I stand on it ... I’ve had to be vocal about that because, for some of us, the Black church is all we have.

When people go to their pastor and all they hear is ‘Just pray,’ it can be devastating. Because in all honesty, it’s killing some of us. It’s literally killing us.

If I go to the reverend and he says, ‘Girl, you’re not praying enough, you don’t have enough faith,’ then where’s my hope?

LaKisha has found her hope in helping others access their healing. Through her work as a mental health advocate, she has sought to assist people living with mental health conditions. LaKisha not only activates her power as an advocate, but also as a disruptor through embracing living with depression.

It challenges people to think differently. And if no one ever challenges how you think, you are stuck. You are not evolving.

She does this in her own journey by redefining what disruption looks like, shifting the connotation from destruction to destiny. As she continues to uplift others from their own valleys, LaKisha leans into reframing depression as a superpower.

What does looking like you’re OK actually look like? What does depression actually look like?

When I was first diagnosed, I had no idea what to do. What’s next for me? What is it that I am supposed to do next with my life? Do I close down shop?

Who’s gonna want to work with me knowing that I have this mental health condition?

LaKisha has developed a deep sense of empathy and leads by example.

I try to love people the way I hope they’ll love me.

As a Black woman in various leadership roles, she often faces stigma associated with resilience, as though it is simply pushing through. However, she pushes against that notion.

LaKisha embraces her depression, not because it’s easy, but because naming it allows her to move through it with purpose. She sees disruption as sacred work: an act of truth-telling that pushes against silence and shame.

When asked what she’d say to herself at her lowest point, she smiles.

I’d hug her. I’d tell her it’s OK—that even though you’re in this pit right now, you won’t stay here. You’re going to impact lives.

And when you’re in the pit again, and you will be, you’ll remember the people you’ve helped and empowered, and the lives you’ve touched. That will pull you out.

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