Libby Bruce

One of the best parts of researching my great grandma Lucy has been sharing the journey with my 13 yo daughter.

Lucy’s descendants have all been in the mental health system. We’ve collected diagnoses the way some families collect assets and accolades.

Our family portfolio includes schizophrenia, bipolar (I and II), BPD, panic disorder, dysthymia, NVLD, MDD, OCD, GAD, ADHD. (and that’s just the diagnoses I know about!)

Of course, now it appears likely that autism was a missing piece the whole time.

Today my daughter didn’t want to take her meds. She said “I hate being autistic. I hate having to take pills! I want to be normal!”

I was helping her dye her hair blood red before her day at the autism school. She’d packed up a stuffy, a lip gloss, and a graphic novel. She was planning to wear her favorite fox ears.

She went on, “I probably need a….what’s that thing? That thing they do to your brain?”

“…a frontal lobotomy?” I answered, surprised.

“Yeah, that. I think I need that. What’s a frontal lobotomy?”

I’m not sure where she picked this lobotomy thing up, but it hit me in the guts when she said it.

I explained what a lobotomy was, told her that in the old days they didn’t know how to help people. They didn’t have meds, they didn’t understand brains. I told her how women like us were called crazy, locked up, and lobotomized.

I told her I suspected Lucy might have been subjected to that horrific procedure.

“This is hard. I am not going to bullshit you. It’s REALLY hard to be autistic. But listen, Lucy didn’t get to take meds and live at home with her family. She lost her kids and got locked up for life, and who knows what happened to her in there. This life is challenging, but it’s a life Lucy couldn’t even dream of.”

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry for Lucy. Do you ever cry for Lucy?”

“I’m not much of a crier. But I think about her every day. On hard days I think about how our life looks to her; our little farmhouse by the forest, just me and you. Not dependent on a man for survival. Your special school. Indoor outhouse. Psych meds.

I know it’s a drag to need meds. But we’re actually so lucky to have them. And you don’t want a damn lobotomy, my love. Look at our life through Lucy’s eyes. It’s a gift.”

That was just me and my baby working on some deep ancestral trauma. NBD.

Lucy circa 1913