David Harewood: The Chilling Story Of How A Hollywood Star Lost His Mind | E185

Harewood describes bricks through his family window, monkey chants at football matches, random street abuse, and being the only Black family on the street. The unpredictability (“you might go three weeks without it, then bang, a casual Wednesday afternoon ‘nigger’”) creates ongoing anxiety. Advice like “hold your head up, be strong” helps survival in the moment but can also push emotions underground, setting the stage for later psychological collapse.

He grew up with almost no positive Black images and was told things like “you’re not Black, you’re normal,” so he constructed himself around assimilation and naivety about race. Drama school then reinforced the idea that his colour “didn’t matter,” but the industry told him the opposite: he was a ‘Black actor’ first. Simultaneous rejection by white critics (for being Black) and some Black audiences (for not being ‘Black enough’) left him feeling like an anomaly, overthinking his identity until it helped trigger psychosis.

Harewood explains the manic build‑up—weeks of little sleep, heavy drinking, overthinking, and a sense of ‘fun’ experimentation with reality. He recounts hearing a compelling inner voice (Martin Luther King) giving him detailed instructions to “close the gap between good and evil” and “sacrifice yourself tonight.” He emphasises that he did everything the voice said and would have jumped off a bridge had he been told to, underlining how dangerous but convincing psychotic experiences can be.

Citing research, Harewood notes lower rates of psychosis in Africa versus higher rates among Black populations in Western countries, suggesting environmental and racial-stress factors. His consultant later told him he’d been given three times the legal dose of tranquilizers; a clinician wrote to him that this is “standard practice” because staff are afraid of large Black men. He shows how Black people in crisis are frequently criminalized—arrested, restrained, or even shot—rather than treated as medical emergencies.

A casual 2017 tweet about having had a breakdown exploded into media interest, leading to a BBC documentary and his memoir. On the eve of broadcast he almost pulled the documentary, fearing stigma for himself and his children. Instead, he was inundated with strangers’ stories and gratitude; mental health charities reported surges in calls about psychosis. Yet he also went through several years of emotional pain and overwhelm, needing intensive therapy to process the flood of other people’s trauma and his own.