StemCell Therapy

My grandfather was convinced that his mothers depression began with his fathers stroke. Up to that point, my mother could handle life, he said. Suddenly, she couldnt, because she couldnt do anything about my dad. But I cant help but wonder if its more complicated than that. I think about what Austin told me about the genetic vulnerabilities we all inherit, and I find it hard to believe that Elfriedes depression suddenly appeared in her 60s.

More on Broadview:

In recent years, research has been conducted into the idea of inherited family trauma, especially in relation to descendants of survivors of the Holocaust or Indian residential schools. While these are extreme examples of a traumatic event that can affect generations, further research also suggests that inherited trauma can affect anyone.Many of us walk around with trauma symptoms we cant explain, said Mark Wolynn, author of It Didnt Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle, in an interview with Psychology Today. We might have a life-long depression that feels like ours but isnt ours.

According to Wolynn, mental illness symptoms could be the result of trauma that has been inherited. One of the most obvious signs is that we can experience a sudden onset of anxiety or fear when we hit a certain age or reach a certain milestone, he says. Its as though theres an ancestral alarm clock inside us that starts ringing.

To explore my own history, I wanted to learn more about Elfriede. So I visited my grandfather in his 24th-floor apartment in the middle of the pandemic summer. We sat a couple of metres apart; I wore a mask, and I sanitized my equipment before pushing record. My grandfathers apartment overlooked Winnipegs sprawling urban elm forest. It all seemed so far removed from the stories he was telling me.

During the war, Elfriede and her sons moved out of the city to avoid the bombings and lived with their relatives on a farm. She worked as a seamstress, trading her labour for food and other necessities. Despite the challenges, my grandfather said his mother was a joyful person during this time. We were always singing when we did the dishes, he said, adding that Elfriede was always whistling and full of vigour.

However, just because Elfriede sang and whistled doesnt mean there wasnt sadness or worry around their house. There were sad times, he admitted. In his family, it was acknowledged that this was a part of life, and he recalled his mother joking to enjoy being sad. You dont have to be strong when youre sad, she would tell him. If you need to cry, just go ahead and cry.

Talking with my grandfather about mental illness, I sometimes felt as though we were communicating across a great divide. He spoke in terms of clear causes and effects. I asked him if he had ever felt depressed or anxious, and he described a time in his early 30s, when he and my grandmother were living in Whitehorse with four children under the age of six. He hesitated to use the word anxiety but told me that there were times at the end of the month when the young couple could barely afford groceries. There was a reason for me being anxious, and I think if youre anxious for a reason, you should be.

One of the most obvious signs is that we can experience a sudden onset of anxiety or fear when we hit a certain age or reach a certain milestone. Its as though theres an ancestral alarm clock inside us that starts ringing.

But its not always that cut and dried for me. Often, I have a hard time determining what is causing my anxiety, or why some days I wake up feeling depressed and others I wake up feeling fine. I think about my unexplained anxieties or depression and I wonder if these could somehow be connected to a trauma experienced by Elfriede or one of my other ancestors whose experience of mental illness I know less about.

Of course, one of the main reasons for learning about these family histories is to also figure out ways to make mental illness a less disruptive part of ones life. Although our genetics or inherited trauma may predispose us to have a full mental illness jar, as Austin puts it, she also emphasizes that there are ways to manage its contents. Strategies such as exercise, routines, healthy eating habits, a good nights sleep or the right medication can help people avoid reaching the point where their jar is overflowing.

Just a couple of years ago, my mother began cross-stitching to help increase the size of her own jar. Most of the pieces shes stitched have a minimalist style colourful text on a plain background. Shes referred to it as a form of meditation, a way to ruminate on a particular word or phrase as she pierces the fabric with the needle and draws the thread through, over and over, until its finished. Shes stitched simple words, such as love or peace, as well as profanity-laced slogans such as fuck the patriarchy.

She stitched a series of pieces at the beginning of the pandemic, the ones that I described at the start of this essay. In the weeks after we stapled the messages to the utility poles around our neighbourhood, we watched as people shared their discoveries of the cross-stitches on local Facebook pages, describing how they had brightened their day or reminded them of the good in the world.

Its been more than a year since then, and, on the whole, I think I can confidently say that my mental health has improved. My mother and I still talk about the ways we experience our mental illness and the coping mechanisms that we have developed, but these days our conversations are less about managing mental health crises and more about whether we are feeling well enough to slowly wean ourselves off our medications. At the same time, I am now aware of the family history of mental illness that will shadow me throughout my life, possibly stitched into my very DNA, and how Im more prepared than ever to take it on.

***

Isaac Wurmann is a writer based in Berlin.

This story first appeared in Broadviews Oct/Nov 2021 issue with the title My fathers nose, my mothers anxiety.

We hope you found this Broadview article engaging.

Our team is working hard to bring you more independent, award-winning journalism. But Broadview is a nonprofit and these are tough times for magazines. Please consider supporting our work. There are a number of ways to do so:

Thank you for being such wonderful readers.

Jocelyn Bell

Editor/Publisher

Read the rest here:
My mother and I have the same mental health disorders. But is it genetic? - Broadview Magazine

This entry was posted on October 5, 2021 at 6:30 pm and is filed under Genetics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed. |