Am I Going To Be Okay? Weathering the Storms of Mental Illness, Addiction and
Author: Debra Whittam
Publisher: Turning Point International
Genre: Memoir/Women’s Psychology/Applied Psychology
story with a universal message. Ms. Whittam traces her history in the form of stories about her all too human, and sometimes unhinged family; she throws a rope to the little girl living there, and in adulthood, is able to pull her out to
safety, bit by bit.
source. She speaks of the people that affected her life so deeply with an understanding of their time and place in American culture; a family not far removed from immigrant roots when men carried their own water, emoted misplaced anger, and with fresh socks and food found on the trail, were confident, unflinching and at that same time tragical- ly failing to the little ones they ignored.
crushed soul for a time and wrecked her on a train, until finally she had the courage to accept it wasn’t working for her anymore. It was time to stop drinking and take inventory and accountability. It was time to accept, forgive and move forward. She healed where she was broken.
For More Information
- Am I Going To Be Okay?
Weathering the Storms of Mental Illness, Addiction and Grief is available
- Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
- Discuss this book at PUYB
Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.
Let’s Start Talking About It
I am a first time author so, let’s starting talking about the two questions I am asked most often by nearly everyone concerning my having written a memoir/self help book. “How long did it take you to write the book?” and “Aren’t you worried about what family members will think?” Really? Are these questions that pertain to the author? I think not. What I sense is the people asking are only interested in the answer to see if THEY could do it. So, let’s talk about this. How long did it take to write? I wrote, on and off, for about three years. The most difficult part was the edit, of course. What I thought was going to be an easy, fairly simple week or two process to get my “shitty first draft”, as Anne LaMott calls it, to a final proof copy actually took six months. Good thing my editor knew how to handle my impatience since she told me we would start going from the first draft to revisions. Well, after the sixth ‘first’ draft I wanted to say ‘I’m done’. But just in the knick of time she announced we were on to the revisions. Ah yes, now we were getting somewhere! After the revisions to the revisions, many times over, we moved on to the changes to the revisions. We were now in month three. Too late to turn back yet I hated the thought of reading one more word of what was once a beloved manuscript to me.
Then, of course, we went from the changes to the changes to the changes. Then finally, my friends, we were at the final manuscript! Yea! What joy. What bliss. At final manuscript 12 I rebelled and said ‘NO!”.
This was just in time for the Final Proof copy. The galley or advanced reader copy as it’s called. Great. After three final proof copies we have now officially gone to print! Oh my gosh. How do people do this for a living?!
So, do you see how my answering, to the unknowing questioner, it took three years to write the book leaves me weak in the knees. It’s not about me or what I went through, for heavens sake (!), it’s about them. Of course it is.
Question number two is more lengthy to explain however, equally uninteresting to the one with the query. Are they still listening as I explain that my first writing workshop was with Carol Henderson in Little Switzerland, NC where she explained to any of us thinking about writing creative non-fiction, memoir, to write as though everyone in the story has already died. Or don’t do it at all. That was a heady first bit of information for me as I already was sure I was the only who did not belong at the workshop. I’m was a pretend ‘wanna be’ writer while everyone else was serious about it, better at it, etc. However, through the next three years of writing, I kept that thought firmly in the fore front of my mind as I traveled the road of writing; what I remembered, my perception of the things I saw, heard and how I was treated from littlehood onward.
Is there any possibility that a family member will agree with my experience being true for them? If, as they say, accuracy is based on perception, then every sibling in the same car having the same horrifying experience of riding with our drunk father at high rates of speed will invariably not have the same or even similar experiences as I did.
We all have our own examples of being at the same dining room table with all the siblings and have a different narrative of what happened when someone spilled milk, triggering a major brawl which in turn lead to yelling, crying and sometimes people coming to blows.
So do I answer to these random people, who I don’t even know, “Well, I can’t go to each person to make sure they are okay with it because blah blah blah.” The person is already not listening. No sibling, aunt, uncle, cousin would agree with what I had as my experience. Parents would, absolutely, not agree. So who ends up being the crazy one here? And, how does anyone begin and end writing their memoir/ creative non-fiction narrative if they are, indeed, a Pleaser.
Was and am I concerned with telling family stories that were always meant to be kept secret? The point of my book is to see how insane it is to NOT talk about family member’s mental illness, their addictions and the loss of a beloved through death or a relationship. The impact on everyone in the family, especially the little ones watching the adults act like little monsters, is what creates the beginnings of chronic ‘IV drip’ of anxieties where little ones are sure of one of two things. Either they did something wrong or there’s something wrong with them. Those are the choices. Silence and denial run the show and eventually become deadly in one form or another.
So, my dear person with the questions, yes I considered everyone in the story. Alive and not alive. My experience is my truth. If someone could have been in my shoes, at the same time with the same experience there might be a chance for some convergence of truth. Doubt it, but maybe. This memoir is a story of my life with my mom, entire family, but mainly her from my birth until her death interwoven with the untreated mental illness, untreated addiction and unacknowledged grief that flows through everyone’s family tree. We just don’t talk about it. Any of it. Until, of course, on someone’s death bed they sob out some essential bit of information that would’ve made everyone’s life different had they known it was NOT their fault. Whatever ‘it’ is.
Answering these lame questions will become habit down the road and I will say, “Three years and yes I considered everyone.” Let’s keep talking about it.
her bookshelf. It was sitting alongside many of her self-help books which I had borrowed during the past year. I read several hoping to find a cure from my irrepressible anxiety that I had previously drunk away. I imagined the wordy text was far from my ability to comprehend as I was at that time only able to retain small bits of information. I asked my therapist if I could borrow that college text titled “Human Growth and Development.” I read it from cover to
cover within a short amount of time and surprisingly, was able to digest and retain it. I had to quit doubting my ability. Being hard on myself was no longer the answer. I wanted more.
higher level learning class. I loved it and I got an A.
to do with my life. Encountering the self-doubt I had always carried within me became the guidepost by which I continued to prove my “what ifs” unnecessary in
order to keep myself safe.
all who struggle with being frozen in fear of “what if.” This book may trigger emotions that have been shoved down so far they might not have a clear story to them yet. It might trigger memories of resentments, regrets or painful unhealed
episodes of your life. These moments may have happened long, long ago or may have been more recent. We go back into the past to find answers. The idea is not to stay there long, but to find healing through understanding the ‘why’ of it. Then begin our process of learning to self-sooth and love ourselves. Nothing is going to happen that you can’t handle. Nothing.
spring-board toward finding out who I really was, so I joined a 12-Step group.
okay by whatever non-mood altering way that makes sense to you; even, or especially, if it is unfamiliar to you. In writing this book, I intended to show how we can all go through our fears and do “it” anyway, whatever “it” is.
Stop listening to the repeated echoes of old messages in your head, messages like “You’ve done it again,” “You aren’t good enough,” “You should just give up.” These messages cause you to doubt yourself. Instead, listen to the other voice inside which says, “You can do this,” “There is a way.” Don’t ignore it. Don’t push it away. Don’t argue with it. That voice is there, even if you can’t hear it and I am here to help you find it. I look forward to hearing you say,
“I AM going to be okay.”
between Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York and Paris, France.