My Horror Comic Almost Destroyed Me

Note: This article has a brief mention of self-harm and drug abuse.



Art is the oldest language in our known universe, a formidable force that has existed before humans walked this Earth. Art is influential, with the power to bring out powerful emotions from those that choose to consume it. As the old adage from Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man goes, “with great power, comes great responsibility”. This is something I would be forced to reckon with during the inception and creation of my series Unit 333.

Cover Art of Unit 333: Introspect, 2018

As I’ve grown as an artist, I’m come to the realization of an extraordinary gift within me, something most talented artists have. It isn’t just the ability to create awesome looking character designs - no, no. It’s the power to manifest new realities. I know you’re sitting there, reading this, like: “this mf on some hippy dippy shit”. Just trust me for a moment and listen, I promise you’ll understand.

As you may (or may not) know, in 2018 I attempted to take my own life. A tumultuous and turbulent time many in my social circle. Being institutionalized was equally frightening and eye-opening. Fortunately, through support of my loved ones, I got through it without too much residual energy left over on me. I speak about this moment in my life often, as I advocate for Black Men’s Mental Health, so I won’t get into specific details at this time. However, this moment in my life would send me on a new creative journey unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

The Art of Unit 333: Introspect, 2018

Upon release, a strong desire grew within me to draw something that would reflect my experiences during my time in the hospital. Original characters and narrative beats swirled around my mind in a dizzying array of fresh concepts waiting to be brought to life.

Still under the influence of medication intended to “help”, among other factors, I endeavored to draw. I had always possessed the ability to quickly come up with character and story concepts with ease but this time, it felt quicker. As if some unseen force took control. Entering a flow state I never felt before, the makings of a graphic novel were unfolding before my eyes.

The art spoke to me, it wanted to be horror. It wanted to be foreboding. It wanted to be dark.

Unit 333, now known as Unit 333: Introspect, would be the first time I attempted true horror in comic form. The designs were messy, the panels out of traditional formatting, the narrative moving to its own beat. It was beautiful, ugly, twisted and raw - just as I was post-hospital.

The story followed the journey of a young man who finds himself trapped within a psychiatric facility; soon discovering that this facility exists in an alternate dimension filled with unexplainable creatures and unsightly horrors. With the aid of newfound allies, he ventures forth through the tainted halls to find a way home while battling the unrelenting forces to seek to keep him there.

I created it all within 2 weeks, alongside a series of illustrations. Things were moving fast. I wanted to host my first ever solo pop-exhibition as a way to launch the comic. What is a sanctuary, a safe space, for Black Men? The Barbershop. So, I hit my barber and asked if the shop would be open to hosting such an event. They agreed, with no additional charge to me. Everything was falling into place and I was over the moon with excitement.

I come from a family of event planners. We stayed having parties when I was growing up, so event set-up came easy to me. Catered food, live performances, the works. The exhibition was a massive success with a beautiful turnout.

Scenes from Unit 333 Pop-up Exhibition, 2019

It went from being an art exhibition to an open forum to discuss mental health within the Black Community. It was beautiful and even writing about it now, I’m tearing up. The raw vulnerability experienced that night was a once in a lifetime experience. It all happened naturally because it was meant to.

Since that night, I carried Unit 333 with me everywhere. It helped open doors to opportunities I never thought possible, it led me to people and experiences that I never thought I’d have. Unit 333 was setting me on a trajectory that I had only dreamt of. That ability of creating a new reality was in full force. I was finally moving up, it was thrilling. Yet, it would come at a cost.

Weekend Wave, Radio Interview Flyer, 2019

Unit 333 became the obsession of many. So I continued to create, leading to the development of a sequel of sorts. More of a reimagining. Now that I was years removed from the initial experience, I felt it best to retell the story with better art, deeper narratives, and improved character development. Unit 333: Reveries would encompass not only the graphic novel space but also music, animation, live-action, and so much more. I wanted to explore different mediums to tell this story, my story. Hell, I even started to learn how to make my own music. I enjoyed the process of these mediums as it helped me to grown as an artist, to develop new skills, and pursue a diverse path for storytelling.

Unit 333: Reveries Teaser, 2023

In 2024, a colleague invited me to be part of a group show at RIVAA Gallery. I thought it a good idea to display new work from Unit 333: Reveries, as a launching pad for all that was to come.

The exhibition went well but I started to realize something at this point. Something that latched onto all those years ago. A piece of dread that I never shook off.

Unit 333: Reveries @ RIVAA Gallery, 2024

You see, Unit 333 came with a weight tethered to it. A responsibility that I was not ready for. All those opportunities and experiences came with the burden of being the spokesperson for Black Mental Health. At first, it was fine, speaking on a few panels here and there. What I didn’t know is that I opened myself up to everyone. Whether in-person or online, people would just divulge their deepest and darkest history to me. They would come to and fro seeking advice and guidance. There were folks in my inner circle giving my number to others, without my consent, to have me speak to them about their ideations.

It was a lot to take on.

There was a fanbase, and even “friends”, at the time that was hungry for Unit 333 and Unit 333 alone. I didn’t know it at the time but I was being spiritually drained. After creating a new body of work for Unit 333: Reveries, I grew weary. My mind and body were not in a good space, and my health suffered because of that. So, I slowly started to step away from Unit 333. I had to.

I began putting out new work, new characters, new comics, new projects. Completely divorced from Unit 333. I had to. I needed to. It improved my mood, slowly but surely. Unfortunately, every time I’d turn around, someone was asking for Unit 333. Despite having a whole series in Sweaty Minds being promoted every where I could plug it.

Sweaty Minds Key Art Poster, 2024

It felt rude. It felt aggressive. It felt disrespectful. It was as if I couldn’t exist to anyone WITHOUT Unit 333. As if without Unit 333, I didn’t matter much and that was such a terrible feeling to experience.

I was depressed, angry. Too much of this dark energy swirled around me. Regardless of my efforts to move past Unit 333 and create new things, people were pulling me back in. Once again, my health suffered. Eating junk all the time, not moving, not being as active as I used to be. I developed health issues that grew from that mistreatment of my body and spirit.

My discernment was off. I aligned myself with places and people that weren’t healthy for me. It led to a massive betrayal by someone I thought cared for me, which sent me down a spiral of drug abuse. It was just edibles but it became an extremely toxic way to cope with everything going on.

I damn near destroyed myself.

Why did something I loved to create, something I thought would help others become so dangerous? Does all good art HAVE to come from a place of suffering? Why are we, as a people, obsessed with these narratives? With Black Trauma?

These are questions I still ask myself.

I don’t want to be known as JUST the Black Mental Health guy.

I don’t want to use that as a crutch to bring in revenue or clout.

I want to be allowed to explore all passions, all topics.

I’m not saying Unit 333 is gone forever. I still believe it is an important and integral part of Habtoons. Unit 333 was (and still is) the highlight of my career. However, I do need time away from it to assess how I’d like to approach the project in the future. I’d like to have better protections for myself, my spirit so that the inevitable, uncontrolled, reactions don’t affect me negatively. I do NOT want live within that dark space again.

Art is the oldest language in the universe, a formidable force that I wish to harness in a joyous way. I will be ready for that new reality, when the time comes.