I am happy to share a story I found that was written by someone I love who suffered from manic depression most of her life. As she describes in this memoir of her early childhood, she was happy. Sadly, things changed later in life.
Here is her story…
My name is Billie Sue. My Baptism name is Wilamenia Suzanna. I despised the name Bille Sue until about 31 years ago. Oh, by the way, I am going to be 58 this year.
As a young child, until age seven, life was great! Mother told me people said to her many times “That Billie Sue is going to go places with just her smile alone!”
I took dancing lessons and I was in girl scouts. I attended nursery school. I attended Kindergarten too.
Mother and Daddy went out every Saturday night and they always took me with them. We drove to Evansville, Indiana, which was about ten miles from our home in Henderson, Kentucky. We ate dinner at our favorite restaurant and they always ordered steak and I had fried chicken. After dinner we would go to one of the many beautiful theaters and see a picture show. Afterwards we stopped at the Gateway Restaurant or Stones for a Coke.
At that time Henderson had slot machines almost everywhere. Mind you, this was in the 1940’s and Camp Breckenridge was still open. Our town was full of soldiers, especially on the weekends. I guess the soldiers thought I was a cute little girl and they gave me nickels to play the slots. I learned to gamble at a very early age and I loved it!
Life was great but I did have one problem. I stuttered and I had a speech impediment. I could not say the word milk until I was five years old. I pronounced it “moke.” Mother sent me to a speech therapist and within a few months I was speaking much better.
We lived with my maternal grandparents until I was seven years old and had a cute little apartment in their basement. Mother was a beautician and her shop was there too. She had several clients who were prominent ladies in town. One particular lady was a doctor’s wife. Every week Bernice would bring three small bottled colas, one for each of us. That was so sweet.
That is where the story ended. I wish she had continued.
Wilamenia (Billie Sue) was my mom. She loved life. She had an infectious laugh, a big smile and an even bigger heart. She loved God and she had a close relationship with Jesus Christ. And yes, she loved to drink cokes and play slot machines even in her older age! And of course she always had a cigarette in her hand. My dad joked with her that he was going to put a pack of them in her casket when she died.
Mom had a strong desire to serve and help people in need. She volunteered at our church and took care of the food pantry for many years. She attended Washington for Jesus. She supported the 700 club. We even drove to Virginia Beach one summer and were in the audience for a taping of a show. She had many older lady friends that she checked up on regularly and took them out to eat and shopping.
She enjoyed entertaining and it seemed like we were always preparing for some kind of party at our house to celebrate life. She hosted Halloween parties for our church several years in a row and enjoyed making gigantic batches of homemade vegetable beef soup for everyone. Other events that I remember were birthday parties, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners at our dining room table that could seat about 14-16 people (my dad made 6 leaves for the table…it was huge!), summer pool parties and outdoor bbq’s for my dad’s work staff, graduation for my brother and the rehearsal dinner for his wedding, luncheons for the women of the church or her old co-workers from her hospital days as an aid before I was born, my best friend Stephanie’s wedding and reception in front of our fireplace, and the biggie…my paternal grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary celebration that was a three day event and will forever go down in history in our family as “THE 50th”. It was an amazing celebration with friends and family who traveled from near and far. Mom just enjoyed creating an atmosphere of celebration.
She loved God. She loved life. She loved people. She loved my dad. She loved her stepchildren and her many grandchildren. She loved me…I was her baby (ask anyone who knew her 🙂 ). She loved her rose gardens and her swimming pool. She loved burnt toast and burnt popcorn. She loved to make breakfast for dinner or even at midnight. She loved catfish and seafood and she and my dad went out to eat almost every Friday night for fiddlers. She loved to shop for bargains. She loved to make crafts. She loved comedies and she loved to watch old black and white re-runs and movies. Her favorite movie was “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
She had a wonderful life. Unfortunately she lost her life to depression at age 59, just one year after she wrote the short story about her early childhood that I posted above. If she was not on one of her amazing “highs” she was on a completely devastating and debilitating “low” that I cannot even comprehend or imagine. My dad always asked her where her switch was…she would snap into it or out of it overnight. Mental illness is a disease that has been in the closet for far too long. The stigma needs to be abolished so that people who suffer feel safe to reach out. My mom did not reach out. She tried to deal with it on her own and she failed. She lost faith in God and she gave up.
I will be sharing a lot more about my mom in my own memoir. She was not perfect by any means but she was a very special lady. She was an extreme extrovert and embarrassed the heck out of me most of the time when we were out in public. I would take that embarrassment any day if I could have her back. I know that I WILL see her again though. I know she is at peace. And I know she is smiling down at me and is so very proud.
My mom took a Human Services class at the community college when I was in high school. She dreamed of being a social worker. She also enjoyed writing and speaking in front of others. I get the writing from both of my parents…my dad wrote for the paper when he was in Korea in the Army and my mom wrote inspirational messages for her own pleasure. Unfortunately, mom’s battle with bipolar disorder kept her from achieving so many of her goals. She was unable to hold a steady job. She lay in bed for months on end when she was depressed. The fact that she was able to pass a college level class and make an A was an amazing accomplishment. I am so very proud of her!
You are now a published author Billie Sue! I hear you cheering up in Heaven. 🙂
Below is her term paper “Mental Depression and Its Effects on Society”…written when she was 44 years old…one year older than I am now. She passed away 15 years after writing this piece. She failed several attempts at suicide throughout the years. It is difficult to revisit, but she tried to overdose on pills, cut her wrists and beat her head with a hammer. Her lows became so low that she could not deal with living anymore. I wish that I had known Christ back then as I do now…I don’t think I ever even prayed for her. I was helpless to help her because I was lost myself.
Her life ended when she stopped eating and her body shut down. She gave up. She wanted to be with Jesus. In a way, I do not blame her.
I miss her every day but I am relieved that she is at peace after so much darkness. I love you mom. I will see you soon. This is my gift to you for #nationaldaughtersday ! 🙂
Thank you for allowing me to share this very personal post with you. I felt obligated to share. So many people suffer from depression. Please talk to someone. There is help and there is hope.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
Blessings,
Stacey ~ iamalive
P.S. I apologize if the attachments below are viewed sideways. I still have not figured out why they appear correctly on my phone but not on my computer. I need a techy friend! If you can read the paper though…it does contain valuable information on the disease and gives a bit more insight into my mom’s personal struggle with depression.
As always, I appreciate comments. Please leave them on the actual blog post at www.iamalive41.com
