Invisible Chains: Confronting Mental Illness in the Shadows of Life
Sometimes, the memories of the early days of my mother’s illness revisit me. It was a time when she appeared so shattered, so vulnerable, and I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, unable to alleviate her suffering. Seeing her cry in the shower for the first time was a sight so heart-wrenching that it’s difficult to bear even in recollection.
The sickness took my mother away and replaced her with a woman with whom we share memories, but to whom I still have trouble connecting.
At the time, I was pursuing my master’s degree in Rome, and when people would ask about my trip home to Vlore, the only way I could describe it was as a ‘descent into darkness.’
In Albania, we couldn’t disclose her condition, except with mental health professionals. Mental illness was, and still is a taboo. People in academia, whom I confided in, also advised me not to disclose her condition. They suggested that if others knew about my mother’s illness, it might affect how seriously they took me. This advice, although well-intentioned, led me to choose silence, which in turn resulted in confronting many obstacles alone.
The experience was isolating and lonely. Only in my final year of the Ph.D. did I confide in a friend, but that was only after he had shared his own struggles with his mother’s health. It felt like a weight was lifted.
A particularly dark period unfolded during the first year of my Ph.D. studies in Stockholm. She went missing just days before my first Ph.D. exam. We discovered her location on the eve of the exam. Instead of preparing for the exam that morning, I found myself desperately searching for a Western Union to send her money, hoping she’d reach safety. I hardly slept during those days, and my dyslexic mind did the rest during the exam. As a result, I failed.
What followed was a profound blow to my self-esteem. Negative chatter, including damaging self-talk, filled my mind. I questioned my worth and my capabilities, even becoming disillusioned with academia when I observed how human my accomplished professors were. I seemed to have attributed them God-like qualities.
I still recall the significant mistake in that exam. I messed up my favorite topic, linear algebra, by wrongly referencing the vectors. The grader, who was a grad student themselves, didn’t evaluate the logic, only the final outcome. I didn’t challenge the grade. I had a combination of shyness, pride, and, perhaps, misplaced trust in the grading authority.
In retrospect, it’s interesting how my mother’s mental health seemed to decline at crucial moments in my career. It felt as though her illness demanded attention, hindering my forward momentum. For several years now, I’ve refrained from sharing personal details with her in real time, choosing to inform her only after events have occurred. It took me a long time to re-learn to trust my own abilities and let go of worries about my own mental health.
Mental illness can have far-reaching effects on entire families, beyond just the person battling these demons. We still continue to live in the shadow of my mother’s condition, with my brother and father bearing the brunt, acting as a shield, which has enabled me to focus on my work and academic achievements. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without their support, or the support of my chosen family and friends.
Often we move through life without truly knowing the burdens that others around us carry. Not everyone’s struggles are immediately visible or tied to identifiable roles such as parenthood. Many of us shoulder hidden responsibilities and challenges that we don’t wear on our sleeves.
It might be as a caregiver to a loved one, a supporter of a struggling friend, or an emotional anchor to someone battling with their mental health. The face of strength isn’t always evident in dramatic gestures or heroic acts. Sometimes, it’s the silent struggle, the unseen sacrifices, the quiet endurance in the face of adversity.
Let us strive to be understanding, empathetic, and kind, for we don’t know the weight of the invisible chains that those around us may be bearing.
I do encourage everyone who reads this piece and is going through a difficult time to seek support. Don’t hesitate to reach out to others. There are many out there who can assist you. You don’t need to go through your darkness alone. Times are changing, and the mere existence of this article indicates that mental health is not the taboo topic it once was.
