Angela's Story - Adolescent Mental Illness

Today I'd like to start with a short story that happened in the fall of 1992. I was thirteen years old. At that point I was about three or four months into my chemotherapy treatments. All of my hair had fallen out by that time and many people told me that I had a very nicely shaped bald head, nearly perfectly round and flawless.

It was a crisp afternoon, leaves were still changing colors and falling off the trees in gold and red hues. A friend came over to my house to visit me in between hospital stays. Eighth grade was going on without me and I wondered what everyone was saying about me, what rumors might be flying in the locker-filled halls. I was diagnosed in the summer and a lot of my school mates were just catching wind that I had cancer. It was then that my friend told me the advice that a teacher, a teacher who was supposed to be one of my teachers, gave to the other students. She told the students, my classmates (and I'm paraphrasing), "Class, Elizabeth is really sick with Leukemia. Don't get too friendly with her. It is really possible she will probably die and if you get too close, you'll have a really hard time emotionally." Now, this is not a direct quote but this is the essence of what she said to my peers that were 13 and 14 years old.

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Fast Forward to Today.
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Less than 48 hours after publicizing this blog, a friend of mine, a friend from junior high in fact, expressed her gratitude for this blog. Angela responded to my post titled "Why Didn't You Call Me?"

Angela and I, like most Facebook friends, connected after many years. We did not communicate much at all, just observing each other's posts and co-existing in a virtual connected platform. This week, I learned more about Angela than I had known about her since our adolescent days. Angela gave me permission to share her story.

Angela's daughter has challenges. Angela's daughter looks normal. She looks healthy. She looks just like any other child on the play ground. During the summer of 4th grade Angela's normal-looking, healthy-looking daughter attempted suicide. Angela's daughter was trying to strangle herself. When Angela rushed her to her pediatrician who then directed her to go to the hospital, staff at the hospital evaluated her daughter and did not see any signs of distress or immediate danger. They attempted to send Angela and her daughter back home. It was only after Angela's insistence that they looked into the situation further. The result was her daughter being hospitalized for six months to achieve stabilization. Angela tells me: "The reason I pushed the hospital to keep her is that she [Angela's daughter] was saying when I was asleep she would wake up and stab herself with a knife. That scared me to think I could wake up and find a dead daughter."

During her hospitalization stay, many people signed up to be authorized to visit Angela's daughter. Despite this list, only one person followed through. Only one. It was a leader of Angela's church. No other person came. For six months Angela's daughter had to convince herself that she was worth the air that she was breathing and she had to do it as a child with no proof from surrounding community members. She gained enough courage to continue to live while she was frightened and alone.

To be ostracized in your own community is humiliating, confusing and maddening. This is what has happened to Angela and her family. An adult female neighbor heard rumors about what had happened, she heard bits and pieces and took it upon herself to advise the children in the area to stay away from Angela's daughter. She told the other children to "not play with her. She is a danger."

At this point in Angela's story, I was dumbstruck! By now I am sure you are wondering what I was wondering - what could possibly cause a child at such a young age want to hurt herself to the point of death?

When Angela's daughter was one month old she contracted viral meningitis. This caused scarring on the frontal lobe of her brain. In addition, Angela's daughter has cerebral palsy. With these two factors combined, and additional complex matters that were not disclosed to me, Angela's daughter does not process things normally, she does not function like other children. Her daughter is on an antidepressant, a sedative and an impulse control medication.

Angela has volunteered in her church community and has held day camps for the young girls in the area teaching sewing, baking, crafts, etc., just to initiate opportunities for her daughter to spend time with the other girls. These actions have not helped. It seems as though most people in her community are frightened of what they don't know. The teachers at the grade school finally had to tell the children not to bring up Angela's daughter's name again until Angela's daughter returned to school because gossip and fear of the unknown was getting so out of control.

Mental illness is not a respecter of persons. It can strike the elderly, it can strike the young and it can strike anyone in between. Angela finishes her conversation with me: "The best thing I know my kids have learned [is] that if they see someone who has special needs they at least walk up to them and say 'hi, how are you?' Not to be afraid, but to love them."

I am amazed at Angela's resilience, strength and willingness to share her story with me. I am honored that she would confide in me such a personal and sensitive example of mental illness she lives with every day.

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Rewind Back to 1992
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When I learned an adult was intentionally telling my friends to stay away from me because I might die to cancer, it crushed me. I couldn't believe it. I didn't know how to deal with it.

Let's be real for just a moment. I grew up in a very rough neighborhood where gangs were the norm. Any one of my classmates could have been killed in a drive-by shooting but that appeared irrelevant at the time of this teacher's advice to a classroom full of children.

I asked other friends if this really had happened, if this teacher really said these things about me, or if this friend of mine was just trying to hurt me or get attention or something. Additional friends confirmed the story. They confirmed the words of a junior high teacher whom I did not even know. My visiting company had been few and far between when it came to kids my age. The connection clicked and a sadness of rejection overwhelmed me.

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Fast Forward to Now
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Children and teenagers experience extreme emotions, emotions they themselves often don't fully understand. Children and teenagers honestly believe that adults do not understand what they are going through. Children and teenagers do not believe adults can help them unless they have an extremely high level of trust with one or two particular adults. Children and teenagers are not immune to mental illness. Children and teenagers experience anxiety, mood disorders and depression and they do not know how to cope with these ravaging beasts inside them. If we as adults do not understand how to address these illnesses, if we as adults do not know how to cope with these mental illnesses, how can we possibly help our children through the silent illness they are fighting inside alone and frightened?

Obviously, my would-be eighth grade teacher was wrong. Obviously, I did not die. Is it possible that our misconceptions of things we do not understand and our limited knowledge of the real struggles of what real people live could be wrong? Dare I shout with a resounding YES! We could be wrong! Everything we culturally believe about mental illness could be wrong! More awareness is needed, less judgment must be implemented and knowledge must be shared as we support one another in the tumultuous paths of life.

To Angela's daughter who may or may not read this blog post who is now the tender age of 13: You are loved by a mother who would do anything for you. When your heart hurts, your mother's heart hurts. Living and believing that you do not have friends and you are not accepted and people stay away from you because they don't understand you, they don't understand your illness, will pass. You will gain friends that you can trust, friends you will love and friends who will love you. For some people it just takes longer than others to develop these relationships. I know it did for me, but it did happen. My best friend today is still my best friend from high school.

 ~Elizabeth~

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