Willow Weep for Me: A Black Woman's Journey Through Depression

by Meri Nana-Ama Danquah

Meri Danquah, a "working-class broke," twenty-two-year-old single mother, began to suffer from a variety of depressive symptoms after she gave birth to her daughter, which led her to suspect that she might be going crazy. Understanding the importance of strength in a world that often undervalues black women's lives, she shrouded herself and her illness in silence and denial. "Black women are supposed to be strong—caretakers, nurturers, healers of other people—any of the twelve dozen variations of Mammy," writes Danquah. But eventually, she could no longer deny the debilitating sadness that interfered with her ability to care for her daughter, to pursue her career as a writer, and to engage in personal relationships. "This is how the world feels to me when I am depressed," she writes. "Everything is blurry, out of focus, fading like a photograph; people seem incapable of change; living feels like a waste of time and effort."



She moves back to the city of her childhood where she befriends two black women who are also suffering from depression. With their support she confronts the traumatic childhood events—sexual abuse, neglect, and loss—that lie beneath her grief. This is not simply a memoir about depression, it is a powerful meditation on courage and a litany for survival.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Mental Health, Psychology, Race, Mental Illness, Biography

266 pages, Paperback

First published February 1, 1998

Reviews

[Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

I cannot emphasize the importance of this book enough. While mental health affects everyone, it affects everyone in different ways: we need more people of color represented in books about mental health. In her courageous memoir Willow Weep for Me, Meri Nana-Ama Danquah details her experience with clinical depression and how it affected her role as a family member, a writer, and a human.

Danquah describes the intersectionality of mental illness and race by analyzing her own journey as well as society's expectations of black people. In a tone both fierce and non-pitying, she advocates for blacks to seek treatment and to discuss mental health with more openness. Her compassion for her friends and family members living with depression pulses through the pages of Willow Weep for Me. This quote serves as one of many that exemplifies Danquah's insight:

"Depressive disorders do not discriminate along color lines, people do. People determine what is publicly acceptable and what is not, who may behave in what way at which time and under which circumstances; and these social mores spill over into our private lives, into the images we create. White people take prescription drugs with gentle, melodic names; they go to therapy once or twice a week in nice, paneled offices. Black people take illicit drugs with names as harsh as the streets on which they are bought. We build churches and sing songs that tell us to 'Go Tell It on the Mountain.' Either that or we march... for justice and for peace. We are the walking wounded. And we suffer alone because we don't know that there are others like us."

Danquah's ability to articulate the anguish of depression while instilling hope in Willow Weeps for Me inspires me. At a few points, I had to put the book down because of the intensity of her suffering - as well as to honor the eloquence of her writing. She describes depression in a thorough and holistic way, incorporating stigma from society, biology, rumination, and much more into her memoir.

Overall, recommended to anyone interested in mental illness, memoir, or romance. I have no idea why this book has not garnered much attention since its publication over ten years ago. It deserves much more. A final quote from the end of Willow Weep for Me, to end this review on a positive note:

"Before, I used to wonder what my life would have been like had I not gone through my depressions; now, I don't know if I would trade those experiences. I love who I am. And without those past depressions, I wouldn't be the same person. Through the depressions, through therapy, I have learned to speak out, to claim the life I want, and to cherish the people with whom I choose to share it. Having lived with the pain, having felt/heard/seen and tasted it, I know now that when you pass through it, there is beauty on the other side."

[Darkowaa · Rating 5 out of 5]

!!! FULL review - https://africanbookaddict.com/2018/07...

Favorite quotes:
White women who suffer from mental illness are depicted as idle, spoiled, or just plain hysterical. Black men are demonized and pathologized. Black women with psychological problems are certainly not seen as geniuses; we are generally not labeled ‘hysterical’ or ‘eccentric’ or even ‘pathological’. When a black woman suffers from a mental disorder, the overwhelming opinion is that she is weak. And weakness in black women is intolerable. (pg. 20)

I’ve frequently been told things like: “Girl, you’ve been hanging out with too many white folk” ; “What do you have to be depressed about? If our people could make it through slavery, we can make it through anything” ; “Take your troubles to Jesus, not no damn psychiatrist.” (pg. 21)

From the beginning, our relationship was formula for disaster. Depressed people often attract unhealthy relationships and inadvertently subject themselves and their already battered self-image, to additional abuse… You feel as if you are worthless so you attach yourself to someone who you think will give your life some meaning, be a safe harbor for your souls. But only you can protect what’s inside. (pg. 41)

I despise the way blackness in the English language, symbolizes death and negativity. Because I believe that the absorption of these connotations contributes to self-hate, I avoid them at all cost (pg 182).

We sat in an awkward silence for some time. I wondered why, after all he had been through with his mother, Eugene welcomed another depressive into his life. Wasn’t he afraid of the consequences? How did he escape the contagious effects of mental illness? (pg. 217)

“Why do you give people so much power over you? That M.D. behind his name just means that he’s trained to facilitate your healing. You’re the one who’s actually got to make it happen. Therapy doesn’t work unless you know what you want out of it. You’re the one who has the power to change things.” (pg. 220)

Racism is definitely in the eye of the beholder. White people have at hand the privilege of choosing whether to see or not see the racism that takes place around them. If Dr. Fitzgerald could not ‘fathom’ my reality as a black person, how would he be able to assess or address the rage, the fear and the host of other complex emotions that go hand-in-hand with being black in a racist society? For whatever reasons, seeing a black therapist had never crossed my mind, until then. (pg. 224)

The illusion of strength has been and continues to be of major significance to me as a black woman. The one myth that I have had to endure my entire life is that of my supposed birthright to strength. Black women are supposed to be strong – caretakers, nurtures, healers of other people – any of the twelve dozen variations of Mammy. Emotional hardship is supposed to be built into the structure of our lives. It went along with the territory of being both black and female in a society that completely undervalues the lives of black people and regards all women as second-class citizens. It seemed that suffering, for a black woman, was part of the package.

Or so I thought. (pg. 19)

[K · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book for class in undergrad, and it truly changed my life. It was my first time reading a book about a person that looked like me, who suffered from depression. It's a relatively sad story, but it really sums up the bleakness and hopelessness that comes with mental illness. It's a favorite, because it made me feel so much less alone.

[Andrea Luquetta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Its rare to read a first hand account of depression that includes analysis of race. I love best the insight that Danquah gives us that depression, the illness, co-exists and interacts with the social and personal events, circumstances and history that inform who we are and how we behave. Viewing depression this way allows us to look for and respond to both the symptoms of depression (physical and emotional) and narratives we interpret, internalize and use to measure who we should be and explain how we've become who we are. As such, we must interrogate social norms about race, gender, class, sexuality, mental illness and others that we conform to, disrupt or struggle against. Doing that seems to be the only way to really, consciously and with deliberate consideration, choose what we believe, who we want to be, and how to measure ourselves such that we finally achieve integrity and cohesion of mind, spirit and action.

[Leeann · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wish I'd known about this book years ago. Not only do I battle depression in my late 20s, but I've dealt with teenage depression as well as childhood depression. I never really had anyone who could tell me that I wasn't alone or crazy. Black people deal with depression too. This is what representation is. This is an example of why so many people need to stop wondering why "everything is always about race". Mentioning race is a necessity for those who feel alone at every turn.

This is not what I'd call a "fast read". I took about a month to complete it. With my state of mind, I'd cry for hours after a few paragraphs. Some days, I wouldn't even want to look at the cover. Everything that the author had to say hit home some how.

I'll be placing an order for a personal copy and reading this book again, and I hope to discover more books about mental illness by black authors very soon.

[Monica Coleman · Rating 3 out of 5]

So few books by black women on what it's like to live with a depressive condition. Danquah well names the stigma that still exists in black communities - and the problem of the ideal of the "strong black woman." I like how she includes her childhood and mothering in her story. A nice read.

[Leslie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I applaud Meri Nana-Ama Danquah. When I read this, it was pretty much the ONLY available memoir written by a black woman about mental depression.

[Kaylie Fuller · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book focuses on depression and post-partum depression. This book is emotional and I have never experienced depression after having kids, but I loved reading the experience this woman went through.

[Lucy Bishop-Carne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such an important book, so well written. Moving.

[Faree · Rating 5 out of 5]

"...….The illusion of strength has been and continues to be of major significance to me as a black woman. The one myth that I have had to endure my entire life is that of my supposed birthright to strength. Black women are supposed to be strong-caretakers, nurturers, healers of other people -any of the twelve dozen variations of Mammy. Emotional hardship is supposed to be built into the structure of our lives. It went along with the territory of being both black and female in a society that completely undervalues the lives of black people and regards all women as second-class citizens. It seems that suffering, for a black woman, was part of the package.."

This book has become very close to my heart, Meri takes us through her journey as a Black Woman dealing with depression. From suffering through an abusive sexual encounter as a child, to domestic violence(Justin) and being a single mother living from paycheck to paycheck. The strength she displays and the resolve she makes to deal with depression is incredible.
Through her journey she sheds light to issues such as racism; dealing with a white therapist who couldn't resonate with her on a racist ordeal that could have likely triggered her. The financial implication of being on anti-depressants and the toil it took on her as a mother.
She does touch on abandonment issues and dives into her relationship with her dad during her childhood.

This book is quite informative and I absolutely enjoy reading through it. My kind of memoirs.

[Elizabeth Ferguson · Rating 5 out of 5]

**Trigger Warning SA, SU, DTH**

SUCH a gorgeous book. Danquah’s memoir tenderly recollects her childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood while reflecting on the origins of her depression. Danquah is a fantastic writer—particularly apt at judging the “tempo” of her narrative. She never belabors one subject for too long, yet her story is richly told from start to finish. The author truly bears all in this book, sharing many traumatic experiences, as well as meticulous descriptions of her inner world. An unmissable book for women with depression (especially African American women). Would also recommend “Heart Berries” by Terese Marie Mailhot if you like this book—also a shorter memoir about a woman with depression but the author is a First Nation Canadian academic and writer. “Heart Berries” is also a little more poetic than this book in its narration style and more focused on sociopolitical issues.

[Piper Vasquez · Rating 5 out of 5]

For me, it is so hard to find the perfect words to describe this book. The book touches on generational trauma, the cycles it creates, and how it impacts the mental health of Black women. In psychology, we often understand experiences by how people "feel." For instance, a person may say they feel trapped or underappreciated. In typical Western psychology, we use methods to help come to terms with those feelings or label them as maladaptive. However, this book illustrates that the experiences of Black women are more than a "feeling." Black women don't just feel trapped or underappreciated, but due to systemic oppression, they are trapped and underappreciated. This is where the gap for Western practices begins. Therapy can help, but specific experiences and injustices need change and advocacy. This was a really good read and I think everyone should give this book a try!

[Mejgan ML · Rating 4 out of 5]

Willow Weep for Me details the memoir of a young Black woman living with clinical depression. It is rare to read about depression and mental health through an analysis of race and intersectionality, and Meri does a wonderful job addressing stereotypes surrounding black women and depression, particularly her analysis on why the “strong black woman” narrative is so harmful and damaging.

This book really makes you stop and reflect on your own experiences with mental illness, whether you personally struggle with it or a loved one. There were so many hidden gems throughout the entire book. So much I learnt, so much I unlearnt. I absolutely loved this book. It was educational yet vulnerable, insightful yet moving, heavy yet inspiring.

[Salamah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read the 25th anniversary edition of this book which was nice because I was able to read her afterword. There is a lot in this book. A full life lived with pain but also happiness. One of the main takeaways from this book is that everything is going to be okay. In the end it all works out. I believe all of us have light within us so reading this made me root for her to find her light. The painful things did not take her out and she survived to see the wonderful things that were and did happen to her. One of my favorite poems by Lucille Clifton is featured in this book and I always love the last part: Come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.

[Hannah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really highly recommend this book for any person that is considering working in mental health. I think that this book gives insight into what the lived experience is for someone with depression and Danquah explores how her own intersectionality as a black, female, single mother all shapes experience with chronic depression. Great commentary on the negative impact of discontinuity in mental healthcare and exploring substance misuse and trauma in relation to mental illness. Easy to read, but definitely practice self care while reading as this book can be difficult to read at times!

[Jordan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a very enjoyable read about Meri's journey through depression and how she made the decision to live and pursue her dreams. It's strange to say that a memoir focusing on depression is enjoyable, but Meri Danquah is a fantastic writer and I found myself reading her book for far longer than I'd originally planned every evening. I look forward to reading more of her work and the books she's edited as well.

[SookandBooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Willow Weep for Me: A Black Woman’s Journey Through Depression is a moving memoir by Nana-Ama Danquah where she writes about mental illness, race and racism, and her life experiences with both.

As someone who has lived with depression for nearly 30 years, I found this memoir to be deeply moving and relatable. And the insights into being an immigrant and a person of color in the United States made this a great choice for Black History Month

[simone armour · Rating 5 out of 5]

“To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage . ..” - James Baldwin, p.284
This is an archive of survival. Danquah validated my emotions tampered by Zoloft and weekly therapy.
In a community tasked with proving their societal worth the idea of stillness—even through darkness—feels like mercy. Danquah refuses to be a martyr. Flaws and all. The best kind of memoir.

[Malia McLellan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautiful memoir about a young black immigrant woman living with clinical depression and breaking the cycle of silence to move toward recovery.

one of my fav quotes:
“Depressive disorders do not discriminate along color lines, people do. People determine what is publicly acceptable and what is not, who may behave in that way at which time and under which circumstances; and these social mores spill over into our private lives, into the images we create.”

[Ondine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was beautifully written. People who struggle with depression may see some of themselves in this memoir. I appreciated how vulnerable she allowed herself to be, and it was refreshing to read a memoir that from the perspective of a woman of color. The intersections of being a black woman and an immigrant made this story so critically important for me to read.

[Kayla Brooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

This memoir candidly addresses the issues of mental health in the Black community. The author shares how she discovered her depression and exposes the reader to how she has grown to manage and live with the disease. This book demonstrates the importance of talking about mental health and its impact on women, people of color, and women of color.

[Jerny · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was actually assigned to me in my African American psychology course. I was quite thrilled to start reading it because as a Black women who has struggled with her mental health her entire life, I knew this book would be sort of a guide to help me navigate through my own battles with depression and anxiety.

[Robin Perkins · Rating 2 out of 5]

I received this book as part of a Goodreads giveaway.

It felt as though the author thought she was the only one to ever go through this, and while I realize it can feel that way, she was writing a book presumably for other people like her going through this. There were also several gaps in the memoir that I feel would have made a big difference in the flow of the story.

[April Lark · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had to read this book for a grad school class, but I'm so glad I did. The author eloquently describes her experiences with depression, and made me realize how my being white contributed to me having a different experience with depression. Her writing is very engaging and I highly recommend it for anyone who has or knows someone with depression

[Katie]

Heavy yet real and inspiring. I love Meri’s prose; concise yet elegant. This was an assigned reading for a class in my social work program. It delves deep into the authors firsthand experience of depression while she experiences motherhood. I recommend this solely for the rich perspective that Meri gives, and what it truly feels like to experience, and live through, severe mental illness.

[Elliot Zeman · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm writing my final paper for a class on this book. It is a hard read but it is so wonderful. I couldn't help but see myself in Meri, despite our differences. Her travels back and forth from LA to DC are something I relate to and her devastatingly beautiful descriptions of depression had me pausing for a second to reread them again.

[Kurnain Lofton, Kurnain · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was extremely enlightening, educating it's reader on the depths on clinical depression. Also the fact that this is a lifelong struggle, there's no one cure, or one time. it's a challenge that must be dealt with on a regular basis.

[Hannah Odell]

Stomach ache kind of beautiful. I took some breaks throughout reading this one- especially writing a paper for class over it and getting real real deep into the gritty struggles of Meri’s day to day life. I’m so glad I read it, not a difficult read, but had to pace myself.

[Niamh Horan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gut wrenchingly written in a way that any reader can connect. The poems at the start of new chapters blend so beautifully with the story and are a symbol of where the authors headspace is in that section of the book/story. I cried during this read and smiled masterfully written.

[Addison Simons · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read this for a class but ended up enjoying it more than expected. I saw myself in so much of the book which was a helpful, yet hard pill to swallow; I also felt inspired. Such an important topic and the author provides such effective and personal communication. I cried.