Out of nowhere, I heard arguing downstairs with my mom and my
grandfather. Mommy came storming into the house and pulling me
by my left arm through the front door with her. Instantly my
grandmother was pulling on my right arm. I felt like a rope in a tug of
war game, which my mother ultimately won by pulling on my hair. It
was like a scene out of a movie. I am standing there between the two
of them screaming each time she pulled my braid until she slapped
me upside the head for yelling out. I felt frightened, confused, and
hurt because this wasn’t the mom I knew, who even in her weirdness
let me know she loved me.
It was so totally out of character that I just got quiet. Things were
happening so fast. Mom pulled me all the way up the hill by my braid
and sat down at the bus stop to wait on the bus so we could go to
wherever she was staying on the western end of the island. All I kept
thinking was, I don’t have anywhere to sleep down there so where the hel is she
taking me? During this time, Mommy was talking to herself. Some of
her words were clear but most of the time I had not a clue what she
was uttering. I could just tell she was angry – at me! I felt it coming
through her pores but I didn’t know for sure what I had done to set
her off. For the next few moments, I reflected on the day’s events:
Mama’s concern for me earlier that morning, the look on my
mother’s face before she left the house, my grandmother demanding
that she not take me with her. I eventually came to the conclusion
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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer
that it was a really bad idea for me to be in that apartment with my
mother so I started plotting my escape to get back uptown to my
grandmother’s house. This is a whole lot of drama for a soon to be thirteen
year old to deal with, but hey, as they say, God knows best.
When the bus finally came, I started putting my plan in motion to get
off at the most opportune time. I recalled that the bus would stop at
McDonald’s so I decided to make my move by telling her that I
needed to use the restroom. I really was praying that she would let
me go alone but that didn’t happen. I guess she didn’t trust me
because not only did she get off the bus with me; she came right into
that bathroom with me and fol owed me into the stall. I don’t know
about you, but it’s kind of hard to pee with someone staring at you,
so nothing happened. This only led to me getting another slap in the
head and being hurried to fix my clothes so we could leave. Mom
grabbed me so forcefully that I was actual y terrified that my mother
was actually going to harm me. I felt in my spirit like I was going to
die that day but something whispered to me that God was in control
of what was taking place. What happened next would alter the course
of my life – not just with my mother, but forever.
As we were exiting the restaurant, I kicked off my penny loafer shoe
so that when we boarded the next bus, I had a reason to go back into
McDonald’s. By this time she was extremely pissed at me for delaying
her plans so she threatened to beat the crap out of me when we got
to her place – or as she said, when we got home. That place was
NOT home for me, but I didn’t dare express that out loud. She was
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JOURNEY UNTOLD: TWISTED LOVE –
MY MOTHER’S STRUGGLE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS
so annoyed at me that she let go of my hand just long enough for me
to get the hell off of that bus and make a run for it down the side
walk. All I was hearing in my head was “Run Yas, run!” I ran down
the street screaming for help; that my mother was going to hurt me
and she was running right behind of me picking up speed. I recall
seeing pedestrians trying to hold her back but she had this super
strength and was just pushing them down like bowling pins. I don’t
know what had gotten into her that day but I knew I was in trouble.
From behind I could hear her yelling, “Hold her, I am going to kill
her!” Wait just a second…Kil me? What did I do? I am the daughter she was
supposed to protect and cherish. Now she’s chasing me down the damn street like
some crazed lunatic and I’m the problem?
Now St. Thomas’s waterfront is barely one mile long so this kind of
madness is visible to every single person driving along the road.
Some summer this was shaping up to be. I began crying as I ran, and
all of a sudden I could no longer feel my legs touching the ground. It
was like I was flying in the air. For a minute I wondered if God had
sent his angels to protect me, and in a way he did. Just at that
moment, a gentleman in the back of a painter’s truck grabbed the
back of my collar and pulled me up into the bed of the truck and
drove me to their office suite so I could use the phone and call
someone. I called my grandmother and my Uncle Sam and my
“guardian angels” gave my mama directions to come and get me. Just
as I was doing so, I heard this commotion outside and ran to the
window to see what was going on. Just like in the movies, things were
moving in slow motion. I watched in horror as my mother fought
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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer
these men as they tried to calm her down. I remember pressing my
face to the glass as the tears streamed down and just mumbling to
myself for her to stop. It was too much. I had seen too much,
experienced too much. I just wanted it to all go away. All I am
thinking is how is this my life? What did I do to deserve this? Why is
this happening to me? And how will I ever face anyone again?
Some moments later, three police cars pulled up followed by a man
dressed in all white who was carrying a white cloth in his hands. The
officers instructed the men to go inside but I was still standing there
watching through the front glass. I wish now that they had taken me
with them because I am forever traumatized, because the image of
seeing my mother tackled to the ground by the officers with her face
slammed into the street is burned into my memory for the rest of my
life. They had placed her hands behind her back and forced her to
stand. The man in all white, then walked up to her and placed this
white cloth with zippers around the top portion of her body – almost
like a life sized strip of gauze with zippers. I simply stared as they
shoved her into this van and whisked her away. I think I was in
shock. I didn’t cry nor did I speak. I just stood there. Everything that
happened next was a blur to me. I just shut down and became like a
mannequin. I vaguely remember Mama repeating a prayer of
protection over me and then in the days ahead we went to court for
them to figure out what to do with me.
All of this happened during my twelfth year of life and it left an
indelible mark on me that words cannot describe. I’m amazed that I
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JOURNEY UNTOLD: TWISTED LOVE –
MY MOTHER’S STRUGGLE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS
didn’t just go stark raving mad my damn self and check out
altogether. It took everything I had within me to keep my pre-teen
mind in the right place, but it was not easy. I started acting out and
giving my grandmother a hard time because I felt rejected and
unlovable. Since the Virgin Islands didn’t have adequate facilities for
mentally ill patients, my mother was only kept for a couple of days;
however the damage had already been done. After witnessing all that
craziness – pun intended – I became terrified of my mother. I
honestly believe that my grandparents were afraid of her too, because
they essentially slept with one eye open.
After that horrific incident, I locked myself in an emotional bubble
where no one could get to me. Then, as if we hadn’t been through
enough, my grandfather Eric unexpectedly died from a heart attack
and it felt like the walls were just crumbling all around us. All I could
think was that I had lost everybody in one second and I was al alone.
Yes, my grandmother was there but she is not the most touchy-feely
individual, because she has had to be so strong for everyone else. I
just didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings and began to
lashing out and hating God. By my freshman year of high school I
had basically shut down and refused to speak anymore. I mean, what
was the point? My dad had basically done a disappearing act and my
mother was stone cold out of her mind. Can you believe she would
look me in the eye and just refer to me as ‘that girl?’ or ‘that child?’ I
am her flesh and blood for crying out loud! I felt so rejected and
abandoned, even though I had other family around me. My poor
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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer
grandmother had no idea how to reach me and tried everything
during that time to engage me on a daily basis. I had disconnected
from my day to day, and was essentially failing the ninth grade.
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JOURNEY UNTOLD: TWISTED LOVE –
MY MOTHER’S STRUGGLE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS
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Author: Yassin S. Hall | Co-Author: Loán C. Sewer