As a middle schooler, I looked at legal documents to categorize my mother as “incompetent.” It affected me then, and it affects me now. Mental illness takes a toll on the patient as well as the family. I can only imagine how my mother must have felt when she was young, coping with schizophrenia, bipolar, and dissociative identity disorders. She was sexually abused by her brother growing up. Nobody talked about it. I could only see her in a "special" building during the weekend. I will never forget the bleak, gray walls. I remember thinking, “This place is creepy”. Yet, every time the door beeped open, I saw her and instantly felt safe. I distinctly remember my mother calling once during Christmas time. I was about six years old, and she asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I excitedly requested a trampoline. She responded, “Mama is going to get you that trampoline, okay Kay, ya hear?” To this day, I dread hearing the reassurance of this promise fulfilled when I visit her. She has undergone treatment since before I was born. However, she can no longer recognize that I am not her six-year-old baby girl anymore. It breaks my heart to see the lack of progression in her mental state. I will never forget the time my father checked my mother out of the psychiatric hospital for a weekend visit. We went to a convenience store where my mom wanted to buy liquor. My dad refused, and they began arguing in the store. My mother began speaking to my father in a manly, baritone voice. It is unclear if he was afraid. Although, he did leave the store with a six-pack of beer in his grocery bag. My father tried to limit how many beers my mother could have. She threatened him by refusing to take her medication. Once she had it in her possession, she still refused. Her psychosis began to intensify as she began to have extreme paranoia that she was in danger. Trapped in her delusion, she escaped the house, and I ran after her. In an alley nearby, I tried to calm my mom down and convince her to come home. In 60 seconds, she transitioned to six personalities – physically, emotionally, and vocally. It was the first time I had ever experienced the depth of her illnesses. She exhibited the extremes of crying, laughing, rage, fear, and innocence right before my eyes. Startled, I watched her walk onto the dangerous highway. This was one of my last experiences with her during my childhood. My family struggled to help her, so we sought outside help. That help ended up abusing my mother. Caregivers would steal her money and put her out on the streets. Often, I lay awake at night with my mind racing, wondering if she is sheltered, warm, and provided for. In these situations of uncertainty, I can only pray for her safety. I often feel hopeless asking, “What can I do?” As I get older, I am learning the more I grow in knowledge and resources, the greater chance I will have at helping my mother and those affected by the trauma of mental illness. Even as I write this, tears come to my eyes because of the trauma both patients and loved ones must suffer. However, my experiences of having a mother with mental illness give me more determination to advocate for those struggling the same way my family did.

Last year, a beautiful angel predicted the success of my future before I could see it myself. I attended an annual women’s conference, not anticipating my life to shift in the area I feared most powerfully. The guest speaker shared her testimony of battling cancer twice in college, delivering two healthy children, and then beating the cancer. All the women rejoiced as she encouraged us to persevere through our hardships. After her message was complete, she approached me. Trinkets of water glistened on her face; her eyes locked into mine. She held one microphone in her hand, and the other held mine. I will never forget the look on her face as she said, “I see you crossing the stage in your cap and gown with a diploma in your hand. You didn’t think you could do it before, but you will now. Someone is waiting for you. Someone needs you to get that degree. God will use you in ways you did not know.” My eyes lit up like the star that crowns a Christmas tree. I was stunned, in utter shock. No one knew the most recent conversation I held with my mother. She was trying to convince me to pursue higher education. No one knew the desire I felt in my heart to step into something unknown. Yet, before these words were spoken, I was paralyzed with the fear of enrolling. For years I expressed to my family I was not “college material”. All my thoughts surrounding the idea were negative. I used the excuses of my high school trauma to predict future misfortune that even if I tried my very best, in my mind, it was decided I would fail. Academics was a hardship for me in high school. Four of my closest relatives died during those four years, including my grandmother and father. However, Bill Nye’s words were accurate, “Everyone you will ever meet knows something you don’t.” This quote is concerning Mrs. Anthonise Davenport. She knew what I did not and seeded my success. I realized that Mrs. Davenport was a divine intervention instead of a coincidence. Her words were like crashing waves amidst the seashore, powerfully colliding with my heart. The sign I had been silently desperate for showed up as a stranger. I stored those words as truth and faced all fears head-on. Ten years post-academic learning, I enrolled in my local community college. I knew that should doubt arise to hold firmly the echoes spoken over me. My doubts flooded during moments of financial instability, food shortage, and a massive amount of schoolwork. Despite this, I knew that the inspiration of Mrs. Davenport’s impartation and the testimony of her life would guide me through. Today, I am a 3.0 non-traditional student! None of this would be possible without the inspiration and support of Mrs. Davenport. Regretfully, Mrs. Davenport's cancer has returned for the third time more aggressively. Her words may have inspired me to pursue higher education, but her everyday life of persisting through calamities forever remains the rock of my career. Inspiringly, she continues to support my educational journey amidst exhaustion, pain, and weakness from the state of stage 4 lymphoma cancer. Hebrews 13:2 quotes, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Mrs. Davenport is no stranger but God's angel to me I will hold dear for eternity.