‘My family’s heartbreaking curse: Depression and schizophrenia’

As a young girl, I would often hear the phrase, “It’s the family glitch,” usually accompanied by some odd action from my father’s family members.

Dad’s brother was someone who could ‘charm the birds out of the trees’, but one day he sent members of the criminal fraternity to our home with a polite request for money owed or else knees would be broken. Dad sold his car to pay. My uncle hanged himself not long after.

My own father was a ‘street angel and a house devil’. Who knew about depression back in the 1940s? I recall walking quietly into the kitchen and saying “hello” to him. If I got a “hello” back, everything was fine.

My own young life was full of black spots, with no siblings or anyone to see. At the age of 12, I decided to leave this Earth, but I cut the wrong way and made a big mess. I told my mum I had fallen on broken glass.

Happily, I met the love of my life at 16, and he proposed that night. Life was good, but day after day – once our children went to school – I would cry my heart out, not understanding why. They were beautiful children and although there wasn’t much money to go around, a lot of love was given and returned.

Gradually it started to be known – this thing, this “glitch” – as clinical depression. I had been born with it and now had to learn to control it. A good cry and I would move on.

Our lives were turned upside down when our then-14-year-old son started acting out of character and running away time and time again. Later we learnt it was in hope of escaping “the voices”. He received help from the psychiatric hospital for schizophrenia and attempted a normal life. But those voices kept hammering at him to die, and I mean every waking moment.

Even while on the dole, my son would give me a few dollars for his board each week. I was so proud. One night is seared into my memory, strangely enough in a good way. He came to visit me and his dad and we had a lovely chat. As he left, he threw his arms around me and said, “I love you Mum!” He died the next day. In his car was a note saying, “I don’t want to be a burden.” I can still feel his arms around me.

The reactions of people were sometimes difficult. Even family members didn’t quite know what to say. So I would say it first, “He is at peace now.” Actually, he really is. I still say “G’day” to him in my front garden every morning. My gardener was busy pulling weeds one day and didn’t notice the angel statue marking the spot. I naughtily said to him, “You are standing on my son!” Poor man! He did laugh later.

I guess what I am saying is that understanding can be impossible but acceptance is not. However we deal with others, or our own glitch, is up to us. It can be done, and thank God I am still living proof of that.

If this blog has raised any issues for you, please contact Lifeline on 13 11 14, or Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636. Both are available 24/7.