Journey Untold My Mother's Struggle with Mental Illness by Yassin S. Hall and Loán C. Sewer - HTML preview

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CHAPTER THREE

So what was it like growing up with a parent who was different? Well,

I'm guessing that is how my opinionated, internal voice became so

loud ( it's the part of my brain with no filter). I did not have an easy

childhood, period. If you think a cat has nine lives, then I must be

one. In the early stages of my life I had a few incidents that could

have taken me off this earth; but as I’ve heard constantly, I had

angels watching over me. Just two days before my seventh birthday, I

was hit by a car and suffered massive injuries. The truth is, I was

pretty banged up; and given that I was mostly skin and bones at that

age – or in more polite terms, petite – it’s a wonder that I survived

the accident at all.

It took six months for me to just learn how to walk again and

unbeknownst to me, the long term prognosis was that I would not be

able to have children. What I remember about that incident, though,

is that my mother was crying, not just because she realized that she

almost lost her only child, but also for the hard recovery ahead of me.

During these moments in the hospital, I felt like every other child out

there. And then, just like that, I was back to being in the “cuckoo’s

nest” again.

Two years later, my life was spared yet again. In the islands there

aren’t as many outside entertainment options for children as in the

states, so one of the things we love to do is go swimming on the

beach. During the summer of my 9th birthday, I was swimming at

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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer

Sapphire Beach on St. Thomas with my aunt (my dad’s sister), her

husband, and their two daughters. At some point I was playing out in

the water by myself – keep in mind that I had no clue how to swim.

There were sand dunes under the water so I thought the land was

pretty level where I was. As I jumped and played in the water, it

dawned on me that I was sinking so I began to yell and scream at the

top of my lungs. However, there was no one around to help me. All I

kept thinking was why am I surrounded by al this water, and where the heck is

everybody? In al honesty, it felt like my lungs, my nose and my eyeballs were

rapidly fil ing up with water and my brain was slowly processing the fact that I

was drowning – no kidding. In what seemed like an instant I could swear

that I was seeing that white light that you hear about when you are

about to die, except that in my vision, there was a hand reaching for

me then pulling back. Apparently I had passed out, so when I started

to come to, I began throwing up and coughing uncontrollably.

I recall the nice paramedics telling me how lucky I was to be alive.

What I later learned gave me chills though – I had stopped breathing

for fifteen minutes but they would not give up on me. I guess one of

my nine lives kicked in because it just was not my time to go. One

glaring thing that was evident to me, however, was that my mother

was not around during any of this. I thought it was strange, but I

would later learn that no one could find her. She’d pulled one of her

disappearing acts and by the time she turned up my grandparents

didn’t want to upset her.

Yes, my mom was very loving in her own way; but there was a time

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JOURNEY UNTOLD: TWISTED LOVE –

MY MOTHER’S STRUGGLE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS

she tried to get me to smoke a joint and I burned my bottom lip

because I was not sure what to do with it. My grandmother, her

mother, was terribly upset because she felt that she was teaching me

un-Godly habits like lying and keeping secrets at an early age. I

remember being on my knees with her praying for forgiveness for I

had sinned and wanted to repent so I wouldn’t get in trouble with

God. Later on that evening, my mother and grandma got into an

argument over the example she was setting for me; luckily, my

mother was coherent enough to realize that she was wrong and

eventually apologized to both of us for what she had done. Mixed in

with these occurrences were normal activities like play time with my

second cousins who were my age. Since I was an only child, their

mom, whom I call my Aunty Ruby, would invite Mommy and me to

come over so I could bond with other children and have some fun.

That’s because my own first cousins were living on the U.S.

mainland, so I didn’t have a constant stream of playmates to interact

with.

As simple as this gesture was, my mother had some sense of paranoia

taking place in her mind, so although we were around family, she

would remain outside of the house during my entire visit and not

cross the threshold. Yet, she would never leave me there alone; nor

would she even eat what was offered or use the rest room. She just

didn’t seem to trust anyone with her child, but strangely enough she would al ow

me that little moment of normalcy, so what was real y going on in her mind? By

the time I got to high school, she started spending more time outside

of the house. She would go for hours, from sun up to sun down,

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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer

sitting down on the waterfront on our beautiful island of St. Thomas,

conversing with the water. This would go on for days and days.

As I mentioned, my community was pretty close knit; so people were

always in our business. During my elementary school years, I took

the bus from school to my grandmother’s house, which happened to

be down the street from the neighborhood elementary school. Most

days in my sixth grade year, my last year in elementary school, my

grandmother would meet me at the bus stop or I would walk with

other children down the hil ; but there were some days when my

friend Janis or my cousins would come out to the bus stop and stick

up for me with all those mean children taunting me about my mom. I

became such an introvert because I didn’t want to have to deal with

the humiliation I felt on the inside.

You see, all this time, I felt maybe it was just all in my mind; that my

mom was just different and as I progressed into my teenage years, the

toll of my mother’s illness began to really affect me. I started to

encounter my own tendencies with depression, and felt that no one

listened to me. From the summer before starting middle school, I

spent most of my time with Mama, and the weekends, with my Uncle

Sam. My mother was no longer working, and would spend a lot of

her time by herself. She rarely took me anywhere with her, so I began

to feel that I was the cause of whatever it was she was going through.

Although my mother, my grandparents and I lived under one roof, it

no longer felt like we were a family. She was no longer loving, no

longer saying kind words, no longer singing. She just drifted…away

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JOURNEY UNTOLD: TWISTED LOVE –

MY MOTHER’S STRUGGLE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS

into her own dark place where I could no longer reach or relate to

her. It was during that time that I told Mama that I didn’t want to

return to school, but she put her foot down because she felt school

was the best outlet for me to channel what was happening at home.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved learning, but I did not like the torment that I received

on a regular basis from those mean kids. They had no regard for my

feelings and probably never even considered how their words and

actions made me feel on the inside. So, I developed this emotional

barricade to give the appearance that I wasn’t affected.

During the summer before I turned thirteen, my grandmother and

my mom were having a heated conversation because my mother

wanted to go somewhere and Mama thought it was not a good idea. I

was somewhere in the living room while this was occurring and all of

a sudden my mom glanced at me with a strange look before heading

out of the door, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand

up. It was really eerie and I was very afraid of what was going

through her mind. I think my grandparents also sensed that Mommy

had gone into a pretty scary place mentally because they were acting

very over protective and my grandmother was pacing and praying

throughout the house. My grandmother and grandfather kept me

away from the windows for the rest of the afternoon but I could tell

that they were afraid about something totally unknown to me. It was

like the calm before the storm.

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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer

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JOURNEY UNTOLD: TWISTED LOVE –

MY MOTHER’S STRUGGLE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS