Hide Behind a Smile: 'A Memoir of an Average Man With a Not so Average Gift'

By Michael Kenna

Mental illness is like being in a boxing ring with Mike Tyson. There is nowhere to hide and often the opponent seems impossible to defeat. If anyone that has suffered with or is close to someone that suffers through can attest to, 'Mental illness cannot be defeated' which is why I make the comparison to being in the ring with Mike Tyson. What you can do is fight back and vow to 'go down swinging ducking and weaving' until the bell goes at the each of end round. Each round will present new challenges. This story is my story of how my life has been often controlled and governed by mental illness. I'm not a sporting hero, nor a movie star, but I have the most important job in the world I'm a husband a father and a teacher. Trying to manage his circumstances as best I can.
I hope that by reading this, even if you have never suffered mental illness you will have an insight into the mindset and decision making of someone that has. Mental illness is not a disease it's a gift of 'mental aptitude' to have the ability to think deeper thoughts and feel emotions more deeply than the average human. Harnessing this gift is the challenge. A challenge that we must not neglect. To continue the journey follow the author's Blog @ hbascontinued.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228825968

Michael Kenna

The Author has had his share of struggles and has made numerous mistakes over his journey through life. A positive attitude and willingness to keep getting up and moving forward is the message the author is trying to spread.

Book preview

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Hide Behind a Smile

Copyright © 2020 by Michael Kenna

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-2597-5 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-2595-1 (Paperback)

9780-2-288-2596-8 (eBook)

Blurb:

Mental illness is like being in a boxing ring with Mike Tyson. There is nowhere to hide and often the opponent seems impossible to defeat. If anyone that has suffered with or is close to someone that suffers through can attest to, ‘Mental illness cannot be defeated’ which is why I make the comparison to being in the ring with Mike Tyson. What you can do is fight back and vow to ‘go down swinging ducking and weaving’ until the bell goes at the each of end round. Each round will present new challenges. This story is my story of how my life has been often controlled and governed by mental illness. I’m not a sporting hero, nor a movie star, but I have the most important job in the world. I’m a husband a father and a teacher. Trying to manage his circumstances as best I can.

I hope that by reading this, even if you have never suffered mental illness, you will have an insight into the mindset and decision making of someone that has. Mental illness is not a disease, it’s a gift of ‘mental aptitude’ to have the ability to think deeper thoughts and feel emotions more deeply than the average human. Harnessing this gift is the challenge. A challenge that we must not neglect.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Rock Bottom

Chapter 2: Early years

Chapter 3: My first love

Chapter 4: Thud

Chapter 5: Heartbreak

Chapter 6: Reaching out

Chapter 7: The world awaits

Chapter 8: Return from rock bottom

Chapter 9: Northern Australia and back to Victoria

Chapter 10: Rebuilding

Chapter 11: Motivation and Inspiration

Chapter 12: The Forever House and Final Round (hopefully)

Chapter 1

Rock Bottom

There have been many instances

of rock bottom for me and I always knew that I would put pen to paper when this occurred. For me it was May 2019. The thought of losing my wife ‘the undisputed and absolute love of my life’ due to my erratic behavior was absolute rock bottom for me.

I have had several attempts in previous relationships at penning my story mainly to assist my partner in understanding why I make the erratic decisions that I do.

Prior to May 2019 my rock bottom was May 2006 13 years earlier. I was living in London working 6-7 days a week. At this stage I had been on antidepressant medication for 12 Months and I felt that I was on top of the world. For me distraction has always been my ‘self-medication’ when I have been losing a round. The move to London was, as with all my erratic decisions, an escape from reality and a distraction. I relocated there in February 2006. My initial perception was, ‘what a shit hole’ and are there any Poms ‘in England?’ I battled initially with the lack of private space. I moved into a share house with 13 other people, I was sharing a room, which is something that I had not done since I was 12. I spoke with a few people of the struggles that I was having living in such a confined space and with so many people from different backgrounds. They all stated that same thing, ‘work hard and plan a big holiday to Europe.’ Once you get your first holiday from London you will understand why everyone lives like this to save for the next big trip. Little did I know that sub consciously this would be the catalyst for how I would live my life for the next 13 years. I was working on the tools completing commercial carpentry works, meeting loads of nice people, earning good money and utilising a local gymnasium as my retreat to escape from the reality of my living circumstances. I have always had a troublesome relationship with alcohol, so London as a 22-year-old single male was like throwing petrol on that fire. It mattered little what day of the week. One job that I had was with these massive south African men. The job was 12 hours a day 7 days per week and they would insist on going to the pub for pints in lieu of a lunch break. This was hardcore. I left this job for another role at Royal Ascot racecourse. This involved meeting at a tube stop at 6:30am whereby a minibus driver would commute 10 of us to site. Once again this led to booze on the way home each night and often we would not have to work Sundays so after a Sunday shift, we would all head to the Acton Tavern, a place of respite for antipodeans living in London. On this occasion I was offered a pill by a work colleague of mine. I had never taken drugs prior to this and I have always been dead against them. But I thought ‘hey let’s give it a go.’ I’m not sure what else I consumed that night. I recall feeling myself hitting a massive wall and coming in and out of semi consciousness. I managed to exit the Tavern and I was offered a lift back to Fulham where I was residing. I have no idea what suburb I was in and the car pulled up at an ATM, the driver and his female partner produced a knife and requested that I withdraw 1000 pounds from my account. I sobered up quite quickly. As I fumbled around in my wallet, I pondered ‘I can outrun a knife.’ So, I bolted flat out down the footpath and around the first corner that I could find. I could hear them coming around the corner in their car searching for me, so I quickly slid between 2 cars to hide. I bumped my head during this evasive move. When I came to, I was freezing cold, laying in a gutter, my head throbbing and it was ‘first light’ in a foreign country, with no idea what suburb I was in. For some reason I found this amusing, I thought to myself, ‘well I have my wallet.’ I must have outsmarted the clowns with the knife, and I got a ride home for free. Humour has always been an escape from reality for me. A sane person would have woken up to themselves after this incident and sought to change their circumstances. Not me, this was like validation that maybe I was invincible.

If I had been killed that night the toxicology report that my parents would have received would have been horrendous. Another instance on the same job we had a massive night at the Acton Tavern, when I got home

Reviews for Hide Behind a Smile

[Helen Kenna · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What do you do, feel, say when, as a parent, you read such a story?

So what can other parents learn from this?

The guilt and the anguish of understanding now, what I didn’t understand then.
The mental picture, forever seared into my brain, of a beautiful young boy crying himself to sleep every night.
What do I do with all that?
I have to leave behind my sense of selfishness and be grateful:

- grateful that the sound of that gun shook him so much,
- grateful that, either by luck or design, each time he was at his lowest, there were people to confide in,
- grateful to have a son who had the guts and need to assist others, that he would put his story ‘out there’- taking the risk that the judgmental of this world would condemn him,
- grateful that he survived a whole series of self-destructive behaviours and circumstances,
- grateful that, as a family, we didn’t first become aware of his story posthumously!
- grateful that, somewhere along the line, there were enough positives in our life that his ‘mental aptitude’ outweighed his mental despair.

Because of the strong bipolar link in the family I spent years ‘watching’ several of my children for signs- Michael was not one of them! Why? Ah, well, his ‘mental aptitude’ was such that he perfected the ability to ‘Hide Behind a Smile’ !

He had so many of the, so called, ‘protective factors’:
- strong family connections (or so it appeared)
- several groups of close friends- even after he left school in Year 11 they continued to involve him socially
- a natural sporting ability to enhance his sense of self and give him several supportive networks
- good looks ( yes, a mother’s bias!)


Michael, Congratulations, ‘there is no-one more inspirational than your own reflection’ and yours is indeed inspirational!

I love you, always did, always will, Mum.