"I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps inside me." --Sylvia Plath
We've all done it; pasted on a happy face to cover our fear, our sadness, our fragility. Nobody wants to be a Debbie Downer and drag others down with them, right? So we stuff our vulnerable selves deep into our core and pull out a mask bearing an appropriately put-together shell. One that appears happy and confident. But on the inside, things are still falling apart.
Growing up in the Midwest I learned from an early age that you need to "buck up" or " "grin and bear it" when times get tough. We were taught to smile through our pain or discomfort because appearances mattered more than feelings. I was a sensitive child and cried easily so I heard it a lot. Of course, I carried this idea of stuffing your feelings well into my adulthood, until that point when I realized that a river of repressed emotions will eventually breach the damn. This flood of truth might manifest as anger or addiction or even suicide if not treated.
Such is the case for Isabelle Carter, wife of the Rev. Henry Carter, who suffers from a combination of postpartum depression and unfulfilled desires. She wanted to be a famous gospel singer. What she got instead was life as a rural minister's wife and mother to five daughters, one of whom reminds her of long-forgotten self.
Daddy brought Mama back home two days ago. She doesn’t seem very rested if you ask me. She still naps a lot and when she is up and around she bumps into the walls. Joy won’t let Mama hold the baby unless she’s sitting down. Mama reminds me of a Dilly Bar from the Dairy Queen, like there’s only a thin shell covering what’s melting inside.
In this scene from THIS I KNOW, Mama has just come from a place where she was sent to "rest" but returns home looking anything but recovered. I wanted to underscore the disconnect that people (mostly women) from that era suffered. Faces disguised with pleasant, Stepford-like eeriness. These women were often over-prescribed "nerve pills" to calm them or "diet pills" to give them energy. Many self-medicated with alcohol and other forms of escapism. Or as in Mrs. Carter's case, told to pray away the malaise when what she most needed was simply to be allowed to feel what she was feeling. In retrospect, it's no wonder we're currently struggling with an opioid addiction epidemic crisis. People want to feel good and will do anything to make the pain go away.
I enjoy what most friends and acquaintances would describe as a happy disposition. But where there is light, there is shadow. For several years I endured depression that might have been postpartum or might have been circumstantial due to life events. Or maybe it was just good old-fashioned clinical depression. What I remember most was feeling terribly ashamed, that old tape of "get over yourself" looping endlessly in my head. Eventually I sought help, got counseling, and was able to talk openly about my feelings as I surfed the waves of melancholy and despair.
During that time I learned that what depressed people most need is acceptance and support. Things young Grace strives to give her mama as the reverend's wife struggles to find her way back to happiness and contentment. In THIS I KNOW, Grace's way of helping happens to involve using her uncanny abilities to break through the membrane of consciousness to reach her sullen mother. Because sometimes a little magic is the best medicine.
Someone, maybe you, is reading these words and recognizes yourself in them. Talk to somebody.
My debut novel, THIS I KNOW, releases April 24 2018. I'd be honored if you'd add it to your wish-list on Good Reads. and thrilled if you recommend it to your friends. You can also pre-order the book on Amazon or from you local bookstore.
In this outstanding debut, Eldonna Edwards has created an enchanting, loveable narrator by the name Grace Carter, who shares all she sees about her world and beyond. Rendered in a voice at once singular and exquisite and with an old soul sense of wisdom, I was captivated by this story of a girl and her unique gift, her love of family, the pain of loss, the sting of indifference, and the simple joy of acceptance, but most of all by Grace, and her purity of heart. --Donna Everhart, best-selling author of THE EDUCATION OF DIXIE DUPREE and THE ROAD TO BITTERSWEET.