By Cally Jetta
Part of life is having people come in and out of it like the revolving door of a building. Now and then though someone makes an entrance that leaves a lasting impact, touches you deeply and allows you to see a different perspective.
Quite recently I met a young Yamatji lady down here on Noongar country and after spending some time with her and observing her wide range of emotions, challenges and coping strategies, I was able to better understand her reality. Sadly, her reality is shared by many Aboriginal women, as is the legacy of intergenerational trauma and family breakdown.
She is 20 years old and mother to an adorable baby boy. They ended up away from country and down here just 5 months ago after leaving her hometown grief stricken following the suicide of her brother. Her partner and son’s father has long term friends down this way so they came down to stay for what they thought would be a temporary visit.
The tenants are meth addicts as are the many ‘friends’ that frequent the house. Her partner also plagued by tragedy and grief had already picked up the habit and his escalating crime spree to support it led to all kinds of crazy happenings not excluding hostage situations and violent robberies.
Knowing how fragile and alone her man was and how likely he would be to follow in her brother’s footsteps should she leave him, she stayed. Her father’s extreme mental illness and mother’s long term drug abuse also made him the closest and most stable support person she had (other than her other brother in jail) and offered her protection from other potential risks.
Eventually, one out of control incident with police involvement and a positive strip search result led to her being charged and child protection services removing her son from her care.
Desolate and beside herself with grief, shame, worry and anger the main thing keeping her torment at bay is her drug use. The same drug that is helping her to avoid her problems and block the pain has become an even bigger problem and now stands as the main obstacle in the way of her getting her son back. She knows this and despises herself for not being a strong and good enough mum to just stop and get on with it. She knows that her own upbringing has affected her confidence and skills as a mother and her mum’s ongoing neglect and refusal to take any of the responsibility infuriates her to the point she can not contain it. Other times she shares photos of happier times and comments fondly about her mum. Such intense and contrasting emotions make her head spin and judgement cloudy.
Add those feelings of guilt, abandonment and self-loathing to the huge amount of anxiety and pain already there and life, and how she feels about it and herself become too much to cope with. With a few pipes or one shot she instantly feels better. Her feelings of hopelessness and self-hate diminish. Things don’t seem so bad or urgent suddenly. Tomorrow she will make a start, because today it’s just too hard, too much and she will ‘rats out’ unless she gets some meth soon. The days have turned into weeks and the weeks into months. She doesn’t want to return home, as there is too much sorrow and not enough support for her. She doesn’t want to be where she is, nor her man, but they have nowhere else to stay and she is required to remain close by because of the local police and DCP involvement. Her man doesn’t have the same desire to change and start a new life free of drugs and crime and his lack of care and mention of his son is creating tension and disconnect in their relationship. Together, equally committed, they could probably support each other through. But trying to get clean alone while surrounded by a household of people content on staying users and unable to provide any support, advice and motivation, is no easy task.
She is beautiful, kind, articulate and obviously loves her child to bits. I have told her so and that I believe she has the strength and love to overcome and be a happy, fantastic mum. That she could one day be the perfect person to help other young women through similar struggles. That she and her son were still so young and had the opportunity to start anew. She desperately wants that, but she is damaged, lost, alone and vulnerable. She doesn’t know how or where to start. She is without the money, environment and support that provides options.
Any rehab treatment would require she cut contact with the few people she knows down here, including her partner and enter an unfamiliar institution alone. She would then have to cope with withdrawal and an enormity of overwhelming emotions that have been suppressed, again in an unfamiliar place and without family support. Most centres also require that patients be drug free and clean for at least 6 weeks prior to entering the rehab facility to show genuine desire to quit. Without intense help to stop, this young lady is unlikely to ever have the calm, clarity and support she needs to go it alone for 6 weeks. In that time she could have changed her mind about quitting several times, survived a drug overdose and seriously self-harmed during a bad comedown. All have happened previously.
Just the other day as we were talking and crying about her situation she said ‘maybe everyone is right, maybe my son is better off without me and living with someone else.’
I was firm in my reply this time. ‘No, no one can take the place of his mother and don’t take the easy way out by giving up instead of putting in the effort your boy deserves. Otherwise he will grow to feel the same as you do. That drugs meant more to his mum than him and that he wasn’t enough to give her the strength and determination needed to change. You can be the one to break this cycle and make a permanent change that your children will continue. I believe sister that you are strong, smart and caring enough to do it and I will help you anyway I can.’
I know what inter-generational trauma is in theory and recognize the multitude of symptoms and struggles that presents with it. Learning this young woman’s story and observing her daily struggle though, gave me a whole new insight into the reality and trappings of actually living it. Her story, like countless others, made it blindingly apparent to me that far more focus needs to go into healing and supporting our young people and parents/families through proactive strategies that bring about positive change and growth; rather than reactive initiatives that cause further trauma, shame and family breakdown. We also need more culturally and family inclusive rehab facilities that are accessible to everyone and available as soon as the help is requested. Most of all though, we as an Australian society need more empathy, patience and kindness in our dealings with others and their grief.
The outcomes could only be positive and beneficial for all.
