Mental health is no joke: My story of growing up in chaos and coming out on the other side

It seems everywhere I look and everything I hear, the concerns about mental health and the toll it is taking on our country, especially our youth, are overwhelming.

Life is not easy, and everyone has issues, some more than others. I’m one of those people. Growing up in circumstances that were out of my control, certainly affected my mental well-being and shaped who I was — and who I would become.

On the outside, I’m sure my life looks wonderful — and it is, but it wasn’t always that way. Not by a long shot. I almost feel guilty because I was one of the lucky ones to escape the utter chaos that I grew up in. The odds were against me, but somehow, I was able to preserver and come out on the other side.

To be honest, going through the things I went through growing up, either makes you stronger, or things can turn for the worse because a person can only take so much before they feel helpless. At the point, that’s when it would have been easy for me start to make the wrong choices.

I’ve had to fight those feelings, even as an adult. As a child and even when I was a teenager, it was hard growing up without structure in my life. By the grace of God, I never turned to drugs and alcohol and was able to stay out of trouble, although there were plenty of temptations.

Throughout my adult life, there are times when I have felt lonely. There were times when I just wanted to get in my car, start driving, and never look back. I’ve always felt like I was running from my past. My mental well-being seems like it was always being put to the test, and it was a matter of time before I would explode or do something I regretted.

At times, it seemed like I was right on the edge, but something — I’m not sure what — always kept me from making the leap. I feel very fortunate in retrospect, but I know other people aren’t as lucky.

I empathize with those with mental health issues and understand its importance. We need to do more, which is why I am choosing to speak out. Exposing myself and telling my story is not easy and brings back memories I would much rather forget.

Hopefully, my story will help someone else. Even if it only hits home with one person, I will feel like I did something meaningful.

Life as I knew it changed when I was a teenager

My 15-year-old self could not comprehend what was happening to me at the time. Why was I here? What did I do to deserve being in the Fayette County Children’s Home?

That was a long time ago (1979), but when something like that happens to you, it stays with you.

Forever.

As the children’s service workers drove me down the long, tree-lined lane, I had no idea how much my life was about to change. As the van drove slowly up the lane, before I knew it, three scary-looking brick buildings appeared. The main building was in the middle, and as I soon would find out, the building on the left was on the boys’ side and the girls’ building was on the right side.

After going over the rules and what was expected, I was escorted to the boys’ dorm. Downstairs was the kitchen area, and upstairs is where I would sleep. It was a big room with a bunch of cots — it seemed like 30 or so of them — but only about five boys were there at the time.

Once the case workers left, an older woman appeared, who was gruff, to say the least, and immediately, she let me know what my chores would be and what time breakfast and dinner would be served. She told me if I was a minute late, she would throw my plate of food out and I would not get to eat.

That first night was the worst. I cried myself to sleep, and there would be plenty more nights like that. It was awful. I felt all alone and helpless. there is not a worse feeling than that.

I didn’t realize it then, but my mental well-being was being put to the test. The emotional impact it had on me would affect me for the rest of my life, just like it has for thousands, if not millions of other kids.

Back to where it all began

My first memories as a child were around 3 or 4. It seemed like we had a wonderful family. I had a mom and dad, an older brother and sister, and a younger sister. We were all close in age.

My parents would eventually divorce a few years later, and from there, even though I didn’t know it at the time, my life was about to forge a path of constant change and chaos.

Both of my parents were alcoholics. They were selfish and put themselves first before their kids.

Once my dad moved out of the house, things went from bad to worse.

I attended New Holland Elementary in the first grade, and what would follow shouldn’t happen to any child. By the time I graduated, I would attend eight more different schools, and I can remember them all, and some of them, I wasn’t there very long.

Following the first grade, I would attend five more different elementary schools before reaching junior high. I attended Washington Court House Middle school for grades 6-8. I finally felt a little sense of belonging.

I moved on to Washington High School for my freshman year. I played football, basketball and baseball that year, and everything seemed to be going well. But it wasn’t. My home life was in shambles. We were poor and sometimes we didn’t have a lot of food to eat. I saw how nice other kids dressed and how supportive their parents were. I had no structure in my life. I had no support system.

That was my life, I didn’t know anything different. Looking back, I felt lost and was envious of what other kids in the neighborhood seemed to have. We lived in an apartment that was in an alley. I wore dirty clothes to school, and when you are in junior high, that was not a good feeling.

I guess I never had a sense of belonging, and it was something I longed for every day. It makes me sad just thinking about it. I felt vulnerable and lacked confidence.

When I was 13, I found out who I thought was my dad, wasn’t really my biological dad, and to this day, I still don’t know who my real dad is. It was awful when and how I found out, which just made me feel even more lonely.

As a sophomore, I had just completed playing my football season, when the children’s service came to our house to inform my mother, that they were taking me and my sister away from her. Someone had turned her in for being an unfit mother. And just like that, were being taken to the Children’s Home.

My sister wasn’t there very long. A foster family took her in. I would remain in the Children’s Home until the day I graduated high school on May 29, 1981. By that time, there were so few kids, we all moved into the main building.

The only thing that kept me going during my time was they let me continue to play sports. I thank God every day for that because it gave me a sense of belonging and discipline, and just being on a team and having coaches that seemed to care, was huge for me.

When I walked out of the Children’s Home for the final time at 18 years old, I had no idea what I was going to do or where I was even going to live. I moved in with my mom and had a string of low-paying jobs. I didn’t even have a car, let alone a driver’s license.

I eventually moved to Mount Vernon with a family friend in early 1982. I was married at 20 years old and divorced at 25. I had no clue what marriage meant. I got married again at the age of 30, and once again, was too immature to understand what true love was.

I never felt love growing up. Looking back, I think all I was looking for was a family to call my own. When you grow up that way, you feel like an outsider. You feel like people judge you differently, so I get how mental health and well-being are so prevalent in our society today.

Attempting to overcome all those challenges has not been easy for me, so I feel for others who have been in the same circumstances, and for those who have had it worse than me. It’s hard for people to comprehend what it’s really like.

Finding my way

It seemed like I was always searching for something or someone to give me a chance. After working several jobs in my 20s, I eventually worked in the mail room at the Mount Vernon News. I dreamed of being a sportswriter or a coach, but it seemed like a pipe dream.

My life just seemed to be stuck in neutral when someone gave me an opportunity. Mount Vernon News Sports Editor Joe Wasiluk was that person. He changed my life forever and I will forever be indebted to him.

He asked if I wanted to be a stringer and cover high school games, and of course, I said yes, even though I had never covered a game, let alone write on a computer. I remember it like it was yesterday. The first story I ever wrote was about a football game between Danville and Loudonville. When I came back from the game, I lacked so much confidence that I wrote the game on a piece of paper instead of the computer. I was so nervous, but Joe was patient and kind and would teach me so much about sports writing.

Little did I know that it was the beginning of a 30-year career. It merely took someone believing in me and offering me a chance. Had Joe not done that, who knows how my life would have turned out.

I do know that I don’t take anything for granted and I am so grateful for the things in my life.

I often think back to that 15-year-old kid in the Children’s Home and feeling like no one cared and not having a lot of hope. I was scared. Scared of what life was going to throw my way and wondering how things would turn out for me.

As I’ve gotten older, I always try to treat people the way I would want to be treated and never be judgmental. I see that in people every day.  Maybe if people were a lot more kind, our world would be a better place, because regardless of how you perceive someone, they always have a story.

For those of you going through difficult times and feeling like no one cares, I know it’s not easy, but I challenge you to keep fighting and continue to keep pushing through even when the odds are stacked against you.

The same goes for teachers, coaches, and even bosses because you never know when you can make a difference in someone’s life. Just being more attentive to people’s needs can go a long way.

If you feel like you need help, or just need someone to talk to, don’t ever be afraid or feel ashamed to reach out and seek help. Regardless if you feel helpless, lonely, or depressed there is always hope.

I lived through turmoil and chaos and somehow came out on the other side, thanks to someone else’s kindness.

Years after I left the Children’s Home, I saw where they tore all three of those buildings down, and for me, it will always be a reminder of where I came from, but I didn’t let it define me.

I kept pushing forward, hoping one day something positive would happen in my life, and it eventually did. I never take it for granted. Ever.

Every morning when I wake up and step my feet on the ground, I thank God for giving me another day.

If you need help

There are plenty of resources out there at places like mentalhealth.gov/talk: The best thing you can do is talk to someone. Mental health includes our emotional, psychological, and social well-being. It affects how we think, feel, and act. It also helps determine how we handle stress, relate to others, and make choices. Mental health is important at every stage of life, from childhood and adolescence through adulthood.

Tom Wilson is a sports reporter for the Lancaster Eagle Gazette. Contact him at 740-689-5150 or via email at twilson@gannett.com for comments or story tips. Follow him on Twitter @twil2323.

This article originally appeared on Lancaster Eagle-Gazette: My story of growing up in chaos and coming out on the other side