A soul lost to a devastating illness
When the telephone rings at five o’clock in the morning, you know the news is not going to be good.
And that morning in June, 10 years ago, The Legal Genealogist‘s family had been expecting some bad news.
My mother’s oldest brother, my Uncle Billy, was born in 1919, and had been ailing for some time. He had had ups and downs, and more downs than ups there in 2005.
So when that phone rang, and when I heard a cousin’s voice on the other end of the line, I was sure that’s what she was going to tell me. That we had lost a member of our family.
And we surely had.
But not the family member we had been expecting to lose.
“We’ve lost Meredith,” my cousin said.
Meredith.
Laughing giggling dancing Meredith.
Caring daring questioning Meredith.
Whirling twirling grab-your-hand-and-pull-you-in Meredith.
Meredith.
First cousin once removed. Daughter of my cousin Kay. Sister of my cousin Barrett. Granddaughter of my Aunt Cladyne. An integral part of all of our lives.
A young woman full of promise. An honor graduate of North Carolina’s Guilford College. An avid environmentalist. An outspoken political activist.
A young woman I had spoken to not three weeks earlier to plan a whirlwind “come up to New York and we’ll do Broadway” visit.
A young woman just weeks away from her 30th birthday — the reason why we were planning that New York visit.
And … sigh … a young woman suffering from the clearly genetically-based depressive illness that has plagued my family for generations.
It has manifested in some of us as simple clinical depression, if anything about clinical depression can be described by so gentle a word as “simple.” In some of us, in more complex forms — bipolar disorder, or dissociative disorder with depressive symptoms.
We know it’s been in the family for several generations. My grandmother’s Uncle John was committed to the Texas State Asylum in 1884. He’s not the only one in the family we can trace this through, not the only one who spent time in hospitals because of it, not the only one to die because of its ravages.
Those of us who have felt its power don’t talk about it outside of the family. We understand, only too well, that it is a biological disease related to biochemical factors many of us have inherited. But we also understand, only too well, that we are, still today, living in a time when just the words “mental illness” are regarded as disqualifying. If you don’t believe that, you don’t remember Senator Thomas Eagleton…
But what we learned with Meredith is that those of us who have felt its power need to talk about it more — much more — at least inside of the family.
To understand its genetic origins.
To understand — and be able to watch for — its symptoms.
To understand its risks.
To understand that, sometimes, we will win against its power.
And to understand that, sometimes, no matter what we do, no matter what we try, no matter what anyone does… we will lose against its power.
The way we lost Meredith.
Meredith.
Laughing giggling dancing Meredith.
Caring daring questioning Meredith.
Whirling twirling grab-your-hand-and-pull-you-in Meredith.
Meredith.
Who would have been 40 years old yesterday.
Meredith.
Thank you so much for talking about this, and bringing depression out into the open. It runs in my family, too.
I suspect there are threads of this that run through MOST families, Marcie. And we’d all be better off if it were possible to discuss it as openly and as freely as we discuss, oh, sciatica or migraines.
I understand all too well. Our family plagued with the same. I’m also researching a family in MS that has had many family members committed in the 1800’s through mid 1950s.
I do believe most families can say the same, if they’re willing to look — and to face the truth.
thank you for posting this. I’m sorry for your loss. I know you never stop missing and loving her. I lost my cousin Melodie to Depression and suicide. She was 3or 4 years older than me, and so would about 59 now. It’s good that we can talk about it more today.. Bringing it into the open can only help. (I, too, found people in my family tree who have been committed.)
Every family has this sort of story, Jo… and we all need to honor those who’ve fought… and those we’ve lost.
A powerful and quite personal post.
Our families deserve no less.
I grin seeing her lovely face and reading your description of your golden girl. Would that joyful spirit could carry us through the times of despair. Times we need to see in each other and call by name. Even when those of us despairing resist.
It is in those moments of greatest resistance that we can only hope a ray of light will shine through, Susan. Sometimes it just doesn’t, it won’t, it can’t, and that’s when we lose people like Meredith.
Judy,
Thank you for sharing this very personal part of your family history. My family and most especially my beloved sister-in-law’s family suffer from these diseases or disorders or whatever we choose to call them. Some of it has affected my niece and nephew who are in their 20’s. So far we haven’t lost anyone and I pray we don’t.
God bless you and your family Judy.
All of our families can tell these stories, Diane, and we all — at a minimum — need to talk within our families about them.
I am so sorry for your loss of your beautiful wonderful cousin. I too have lost family members to this devastating disease and many friends as well. It is so heartbreaking and sometimes takes other people out with them, such as partners who feel they can’t go on without them. It is so sad. I feel powerless even though I would so love to do something to prevent this from happening. It can have a dominoe effect.
It does leave us feeling helpless and powerless, Gail. Only too true, only too often.
So sorry for your loss of such a promising, vibrant young woman. My family also has BP in its genes. John Hopkins University has an ongoing study of the disease in families that you can contribute blood samples; they may now be doing DNA swabs. Their book on Bipolar Disease http://roomswithwindows.blogspot.com/2015/05/bipolar-disorder-guide-for-patients-and.html is very helpful.
Good to know there’s more scientific work being done here, thanks.
So sad to hear of Meredith’s death, and the pain others in the family feel at the loss. As for depression – Ditto in our family, for several generations back at least. We’re very open about it in our family… “we’re wired a little short of the feel-good chemicals” is how we talk with others – “it’s a biochemical issue”. And we never find ways to ‘blame’ the depressed/suicidal person by telling them to “try harder”! As if one could try harder to run with a broken leg, one can’t simply try harder to overcome chronic depression. However – we’re all still here; my brother was shocked his suicide didn’t ‘work’ and is doing much better 10 years later. I must admit as I get older, I’m feeling significantly more positive about life in general… wonder if there’s a shift that happens as one’s hormones shift with older age (I’m now 72).
Today I think I’ll go pick those sweet peas out back, and imagine they’re for you.
Glad your family is able to be open about it, Celia. I think it really helps.
I am so sorry for your loss. How devastating. Thank you for sharing your history. Yes, we must talk about this with our families.
Openly and without restraint, at least within our own families. Maybe the world can’t see us for who we are — not yet — but boy we need our families to see.
Thanks, Judy, for sharing. Talking about and sharing is hard but needed for understanding and acceptance. My third granddaughter was born with a bilateral cleft palate; I will never forget the young girl (about 12yrs old) who came up to me in church and asked me why Emma looked the way she did. I explained and also thanked her for asking. Knowledge leads to understanding, acceptance and caring.
Knowledge leads to understanding, acceptance and caring.
Worth repeating. And repeating. And repeating…
A lovely memorial. I am so sorry for your loss and the pain in the family, which I know from experience, never goes away.
It surely doesn’t ever go away, Barbara… sigh…
Beautifully written and very touching. The pain never does go away, and depression runs in my family, too. May your memory of Meredith be a blessing.
Apologies for the typo, which I apparently can’t correct.
(But I can, and did!)
Thank you for sharing. My moms side of the family struggles with this as well. Her mother had schizophrenia and I have found at least 3 of her relatives were institutionalize as well. Thank you for sharing and making it ok to talk about this.
It’s important for all families to be open and discuss these illnesses. We wouldn’t hush up diabetes or kidney stones — we should discuss this as openly, at least within our own family circles.
Excellent article in remembering your cousin. She was a beautiful young lady. I dealt with the similar with my family members and a step-father who they diagnosed as bi-polar but I think he had schizophrenia.
You mentioned a great-uncle at the Texas State Asylum. I had a third great-grandmother Caroline (Roberson) Mathews who the family said was a bad diabetic. According to a granddaughter, she went “delirious” and the family placed her in the Texas State Asylum in Austin, Texas, where she died, sometime after 1900. Are the records for this time period available? I have never located a death date or obituary and need to follow up on the hospital lead.
I don’t know if records were generally open for state hospitals or asylums at this time or later. My grandfather had a sister that disappeared in 1958. I personally think she may have been murdered but there was a rumour that she was placed in Central State Hospital in Milledgeville, Georgia. Another lead I need to follow up on. I wish there were more written on how to research these highly sensitive but necessary records.
Thanks again for another great article that makes us think!
Hank
Some records may be in existence, Hank, and it’s worth starting at the Texas State Library and Archives to see what you can track down. For John, all we’ve been able to get is his death certificate and his initial (court) commitment papers.
I have it on my list- those records and while I am in Austin I can get some good Texas BBQ. On your John, did the hospital require something from the court? I did not think about that, but perhaps there might be a similar record for Caroline in Falls County. Thanks again. Great information.
I didn’t need anything for the records I could get: the court and death records were open. I was told nothing more existed. I plan on waiting awhile and trying again.
Thank you for being frank about a common issue among family, distant and near, Judy. I have a 3nd great grandmother who died in a state asylum as reported in court records, and two first cousins are bipolar. For those of us who aren’t afflicted, we can count our blessings. All the while, we can be more compassionate towards those who are–because they too can add love and value to the lives they touch.
We all need to be as frank as we can be, Lisa, at a minimum among our families, with those we love.
It runs in my family, too. Both my father and great grandfather committed suicide.
So sorry to hear that, Susan. So many families so impacted.
A beautiful tribute, Judy. I’m sure Meredith would be proud of your “activism” on this issue.
We have this in our family too. One of my daughters is a child psychiatrist, so it is something we talk about wherever we are.
Glad that this is getting an airing in your family, and your daughter’s expertise must be very helpful!!
Bipolar here. From my father’s side, no doubt. His sister committed suicide at age 28. I’m grateful I’m still here and finally have an accurate diagnosis, working medication, and a good therapist. I know what it’s like to be upbeat, whirling, twirling, and happy, and then lying in bed in the dark. I know that it is not always the depression that is the most dangerous, but the mania or fall from mania that can lead to suicide attempts. I know this from personal experience. Discovering where all of this is from has been a big part of my genealogical journey. I am so sorry for your family’s loss, Judy. Mental illness is not fair.
Life isn’t fair, Liz, never has been and never will be. But we all do what we can, individually and as families, to try the best we can to level the playing field. And talking about risks like this, without shame or stigma, at least within our families, is a critical part of that.
That’s the truth.
I would have liked to have known your Meredith, she must have been as lovely as your words have painted her.
Everyone who ever knew her loved her, Joan. We all suffer when we lose one like Meredith.
I haven’t done any scientific studies on the matter, but it seems that the ones who get hit with the worst withdepression / BP / or whatever it may be called tend to frequent the upper reaches of the bell curve as far as intellect and talent go. That’s the way it has been in my family, and in so many other families with whom I am familiar.
[A now deceased client, a sculptor and painter of international repute, upon an occasion I had to visit him in a psychiatric institution during one of his hospitalizations, went so far as to tell me that if he took his medications then it would stifle his creativity. My response to him: “So where was Van Gogh when he did his best work?”].
But I do remember the way it was 50 years ago when talk about those afflictions was far, far more taboo than it was today.
It does appear — at least anecdotally — that you’re right, Ken. And while the public climate is better today than it was 50 years ago, it’s still bad. I daresay Tom Eagleton would be no more electable in 2016 than he was in 1972.
I am so thankful, Judy, that your gifts in genealogy & the law don’t eclipse your gift of writing. Your blog posts are so often experienced as the equivalent of sitting & talking with a good friend. The fact that you’re so willing to write about the really tough stuff – the stuff we’ve been encouraged for lifetimes NOT to talk about, makes the experience of feeling like we’re talking to a good friend one of greater openness, genuine honesty – those conversations we all crave but aren’t always so privileged to have. Thank you for trusting us to hear your writings of truth, and thanks, too, for shining a light on an area that’s been relegated to the dark corners for so long. It should be shocking that this is a topic that resonates for so many of us – if only because we so rarely share these stories with one another, our own personal stories of struggling to keep the light shining amidst the darkness. It’s posts like these that make me wish we all lived in a society where we could be as open & honest with one another about those “dark family secrets.” A million thanks for your part in helping us to slowly reach that point. With love, peace & thanksgiving… ♥
We can all only take baby steps forward, as we struggle to find our comfort zones and our family comfort zones, to bring issues like this into the light, Katherine. But if we all try, that journey of 1000 miles can begin… with baby steps.
My sympathies for the loss to you and your whole family of beautiful, dancing Merideth. You’ll never forget her–nor should you!
I’ve read in several reputable places that Pres. Lincoln was bipolar, with in his case the stress on he depressed end; he certainly was both brilliant and a highly creative leader.
Several family members have or had a variety of mental illnesses. One of my father’s sisters was very “odd,” and remembering the stories he told of her, from childhood on, I suspect some kind of mental illness. A conversation recently with one of her sons would tend to confirm that, though we skirted around the term.
One of my mother’s brothers never married, and lived with his parents until late middle age. When I was a child, I just thought he was strange, and tried to stay out of his way. After his death, when I began to do genealogy, I asked my mother about him. While he’d always been “strange,” her word too, he returned from WW II totally changed. He spent most of the war stateside, while his brothers and cousins all went overseas. When the war in Europe was over, he was sent there, but would never talk about what he saw or did. She always wondered exactly what he saw, and recently I’ve begun to wonder if it was something that triggered PTSD. I can’t get his service records, since I’m not a direct descendant. He would seem fine for months, even years, then call her to ask her to drive him to the VA mental hospital in the area. He would commit himself, and stay for months. Finally, his doctor refused to let him leave until he moved out of his parents’ home. He only moved back in when his mother was dying and needed him as a caregiver; they couldn’t afford to hire someone.
Yesterday at a family reunion with this side of the family, I had a conversation with a first cousin about how we deal with terrible things life deals out to us. She said her own mother had stressed to her that “Life isn’t fair, and the sooner you get used to it, the better off you are.” When thinking life SHOULD be fair coincides with difficult brain chemistry, we can be set up for real trouble. This cousin’s daughter was also there–third generation, with her own daughter, happy and proud of just turning 13. Four generations, the oldest in memory and old photos. My first cousin’s daughter–my first cousin once-removed–has struggled with uterine cancer for at least ten years. She’s also bipolar (which I had not been told before but once told realized I did know on some level), but now knows enough to take her meds. She still wants life to be fair, though, which leaves her at risk. But she made the effort to come to the reunion, mentioned that her most comfortable position was on her back, and a chaise lounge was found for her. All of her immediate family spent the day coming and going around her, so that she was never alone, even though she dozed at times because of her pain meds. At least for that day she had made the decision to “grab-your-hand-and-pull-you-in.” Her mother told me that one of the reasons she divorced her daughter’s father was because she didn’t understand his own bipolar disorder and his unwillingness to take his meds. He liked the mania. At least this young woman is willing to take her meds so if they can conquer the cancer, we have a hope of hanging on to her.
Again, hang on to your memories of beloved Meredith. It does help to talk about it. I was very glad my cousin shared her daughter’s story with me. And thank you for sharing those intimate and poignant memories with us. They help give the rest of us permission and open us up to our own memories.
Doris
So glad you had the chance to have that conversation with your cousin — and that you were willing to stay for the conversation when it began. These are hard discussions but, within each and every family, oh so important.
Thank you, Judy, for your touching and enlightening tribute to Meredith. It is a shame that there continues to be a stigma surrounding mental illness. There needs to be openness and sharing within the family about the illness and the difficulties it presents, not only to and with the patient, but also how it affects everyone within the family.
We are fortunate that within our family we do talk about it and support each other, as my 18 year-old granddaughter has been struggling with bi-polar for several years.
On another side, in my foster family, I have a niece with bi-polar disorder who suffers from wide swings and a nephew who is autistic and also suffers from depression. Both are in their 60s and struggle on heroically, but that side of the family do not talk about their diagnosis and just shrug and say “it just one of their spells” and changed the subject. This was unfortunate in that there is a lot of undercurrent anger and much avoidance of those with the disorders.
Today is the 7th anniversary of the death of our oldest granddaughter, who took her own life. She did suffer from depression, but was doing very well. She had a new job she loved and had signed up, with her brother, for college courses just two days before. She appeared to be doing well at dinner the night before, joking and telling us how great her life was going. She went to work after dinner, came home later that night and spent time with her brother. laughing and talking about their plans for college. By five o’clock in the morning she had left us. It was this experience that taught the need to talk with each other, to share our feelings, fears, and needs with each other and to be there and support each other.
I am so very sorry you lost your granddaughter, Louise. It’s just so unutterably sad that we continue to lose these lovely members of our families to such a horrible disease. Yes, talk to each other: share our feelings, fears, and needs with each other and to be there and support each other. Yes.
Such a sad loss Judy and a beautifully expressed memorial to a lovely young woman. Those with no personal and family experience of mental illness really don’t “get it”. Why IS mental health regarded as different from asthma or any other “acceptable” illness. A young woman in Ireland writes an excellent blog on depression and mental illness…so honest and courageous. http://sunnyspellsandscatteredshowers.blogspot.com.au
Thanks for that very interesting blog link!
I am sorry for your loss. Posts like yours helps remove the stigma of mental illness. Depression is much more common that people think.
Deep sympathy on your family’s grievous loss. Thank you for being able to help us confront the causes amid your grief.
What a beautiful soul, Judy. Thank you for sharing this – so, so important. I have no words. With love from Ohio…Cate.
All of our families need to talk about this sort of history, Cate. All our families.
I am very sorry about Meredith, the efficacy and treatment modalities today are continually improving. A good therapist, being medicated when need be, and a few “Good” friends who MAKE you get out of the house and laugh at somethings so absurd. In your grandmother’s time, there was little to help he, other than certain diets and insulin. Some people built an immune resistance against beef or pork insulin and there were no glucometers then, to assist. Everyone can get a little blue or sad, that is not a major depression which can occur alone but often occurs in association with another psych condition. I would finish some big exciting project, and when it was done, I did not have a plan B or C to start working on and found myself stuck and floundering. I will pass on a couple days of mania to never again descend into a place very Deep and Dark.
(You may delete this if not appropriate). Somebody mentioned the program for bi-polar disorder at Johns Hopkins. One of the people who teaches Psychiatry at Hopkins is
Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison who is co-author of a text book on bi-polar disorder. She also wrote her own autobiography; “The Unquiet Mind,” about her struggle to find the diagnosis and treatment for her own bi-polar disease and how it effects both relationships and your life. Again, I think it is very important to be aware that bi-polar syndrome is not the only disease that has major depressive disorder components, it should be diagnosed and treated appropriately. Most importantly, you did nothing wrong and this is not your fault. You be mad at all of the persons in your family tree for infecting you with bad gene sequences, you can’t allow anyone in your family to get a phone call about Meredith—I will leave it to our Counselor of Record to defend all of those “guilty” parties you seek civil restitution from.
Meredith sounds like such a lovely young woman, full of promise and personality. I’m sure her loss has left–and will continue to leave–a sad void in your family. I lost my younger brother 22 years ago under similar circumstances, and am glad you’ve written about it. I wish your family peace, understanding, and freedom from all the “what if…” scenerios that are bound to crop up at a time like this. Love and blessings to you all.
Meredith was a very good friend to me. We had a lot in common. Including, unfortunately, that illness. I’m 41 now. I think of her often.
I found your post tonight because I’ve forgotten her last name, and I wanted to make a donation to the conservation group where she used to work. Would you email me? Thank you again for this piece. I miss her.
I will certainly email you, and thank you for remembering Meredith, my lovely young cousin who is so deeply and forever missed.
I still remember Meredith with much love. I wish we could compare notes about our lives and the passing of time. Thank you again for writing this piece that captures her so beautifully.