Amra
Pajalic's memoir, Things Nobody Knows But Me, is an unflinching
look at the formative years of the author's life. As a Bosnian Muslim who spent
time living in both Australia and Bosnia before the war, Pajalic looks at the
clash of cultures and customs between the homeland of her parents and their adopted
country, and how her own experiences shaped her.
Pajalic
writes with brutal honesty about growing up with a parent with mental illness,
and how this was handled and mishandled by family, friends, and the
authorities. The view in Bosnia was harsh and there was little sympathy or real
support for those who had mental health issues, while even case workers and
medical professionals in Australia failed to effectively diagnose Pajalic's
mother.
It wasn't
until Pajalic was a teenager that a school counselor introduced her to the term
manic depression, otherwise known as bipolar disorder.
Pajalic
doesn't shy away from the sense of impending upheaval from each of her mother's
episodes and hospitalizations. She is transparent about her own frustrations
and how this shaped her experiences as a young child, often burdened with
household responsibilities that should have fallen to parents.
From
incidents of sexual abuse to her first sexual exploits, Pajalic chronicles her
life growing up with cultural and religious conflict, as well as the unending
cycle of family problems that shaped her life. I had been looking forward to
reading this book for a year, since I first heard it was contracted, because I
also grew up with a mom who was undiagnosed bipolar until my late teens. I
found that, although the geographic location may have been different, there
were so many aspects of Pajalic's experiences with her mother than were similar
to mine; namely, that sense of waiting for the shoe to drop as you watched a
parent spiral towards another breakdown and the inevitable fallout that would
stem from it.
I was
also fascinated by the chance to reach across cultural lines and gain insight
into the perspectives of both Bosnian Muslims in their homeland, and how things
evolved once many were transplanted in Australia. Pajalic's tales of courtship
with her husband highlight the realities of an older generation holding on to
customs that have evolved in the world they left behind, ultimately creating a
generation of immigrants who are out of step with their own homeland because they
were extracted from that natural cultural evolution.
The
narrative flows through Pajalic's childhood and her journey to adulthood and is
at time engrossing, entertaining, and shocking. Pajalic is relatable, and
whether she's talking about skipping school, shoplifting candy from a story,
making out with a boy for the first time, or the fear of telling a parent you
dropped the milk, readers will connect with the story of her journey. I was
riveted and squeezed in minutes at all hours of the day and night to finish
this book, which I highly recommend.
Sandra Ruttan ©2019
Sandra Ruttan ©2019
Sandra
Ruttan oversees content scheduling and editing for the Bronzeville Bee, which
publishes fiction and non-fiction http://www.bronzevillebee.com/ and
is the submissions editor for Bronzeville Books http://www.bronzevillebooks.com/
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