Undocumented Youth Cope With Mental Health Problems And Family Deportations

Posted by Robyn Gee on February 22, 2012

A section of the mural on the outside of 67 Suenos in San Francisco, CA.

At Turnstyle, we’ve been looking into the issue of mental health concerns that undocumented people face in the United States–something that is slowly creeping into the national immigration conversation because of recent high-profile cases of undocumented people committing suicide.

The National Immigrant Youth Alliance even launched a site, Undocuhealth.org, in honor of 22 year-old Yanelli Hernandez Serrano, who attempted suicide twice in the United States and then was deported back to Mexico. The site tries to connect undocumented people to resources, and to build a network for people to share resources and success narratives.

For young people in particular, transitioning from childhood into young adulthood can trigger mental health problems, because as a child, one often does not realize the barriers that they will face as an undocumented adult.

Turnstyle spoke with two undocumented young people who have internships with the organization 67 Sueños, in San Francisco, CA, which highlights the voices of migrant underprivileged youth. These young people shared their stories about struggling with mental health.

Lucia, 25, came to the U.S. from Mexico City at age 9, with her family. They came on a visa, but it expired.

Being undocumented didn’t affect me a lot [as a kid] because I was sheltered from a lot of things growing up. But when I wanted to go to college is when it really hit me. I can’t do certain things, I can’t get my license, I can’t afford to pay a four year institution because my parents don’t have the money.

It made me mad. It depressed me to a point. I felt like I was limited from pursuing things that I wanted to do. I wanted to study abroad, but I can’t do that either. Some of my friends, they went to Spain, or they went to Central America, and they had really good experiences and I always wanted to have that. But I haven’t had the opportunity.

[With regard to mental health], I am bipolar. That was diagnosed at the age of 15. Here in the United States, they tell you, ‘Okay it’s treatable, we can help you out.’ But really, if you don’t have insurance, the medicine is like $150 and you’re not just taking one medication, you’re taking two medications. I was hospitalized a couple of times, and I’m still paying the bills from when I was in the hospital.

I learned to live with [the bipolar]. I don’t have the money for the treatment. I’m not taking medication, but I do try to go to therapy.

When you have bipolar, you don’t produce lithium and that’s what stabilizes your emotions. I had to learn to be really aware of that. What I’m feeling is not necessarily what I think it is. Sometimes I’m aware of it, and I’m trying to control it, but a little thing can just set everything off. It mostly happens to me when I’m really stressed out.

I don’t like to tell people that I’m bipolar because sometimes people don’t really understand what bipolar is and they just label you as being crazy.

My brother is going through immigration process, and I get paranoid. I feel like immigration (authorities) could come to my house any day. It’s scary. There was a time when I wasn’t sleeping. Because I felt like if I slept and they come to the house, I wouldn’t be prepared.

So my bipolar was like interfering. I felt like I was going out of my mind, I would get up and look out the window. And I wouldn’t go to sleep unless all the doors were locked.

At Walgreens they sell medication over the counter that makes you sleep. I would take half of it, and it would help me sleep and the next day I would be more relaxed.

It’s not easy. Because when you have bipolar sometimes people don’t understand and sometimes you don’t even understand yourself. But imagine if you went to Mexico or Central America… people in our countries are still very closed-minded when it comes to mental health.

When you have depression or bipolar, or even if you don’t have a mental health illness, but you’re going through an immigration case, it’s really stressful. You never know when you’re going to walk into the courthouse and wake up in another country.

Maria, 18, came to the U.S. at age 6, because there weren’t enough resources in her small town in Acapulco, Guerrero.

I was in the first grade – I remember my first day I came to school I couldn’t understand the teacher and the students – I came to school. and I remember kids would say something to me and I couldn’t understand. I was scared…

As I grew up, I knew I was from a different place, but I never really heard the term undocumented or illegal. I started to see there was a lot of prejudice against undocumented people. When you start seeing something, you start seeing it all around you. I asked my mom and [she said] I was undocumented.

But growing up, you’re a little kid you don’t know what’s going  on… I guess you could say my mom tried to cover it up, but once you are growing up, it hits you, and it’s there, and it’s not going away.

I’m the type of person that is like, ‘Oh, nothing is going to happen.’ But a couple years ago, my brother got deported. He was the first in my family to get deported. I’ve gotten scared. A couple months ago, my dad got deported.

With my brother, all of my family took it really bad. It’s like someone passing away.

Then, a couple months ago, it was my dad [who got deported]. None of us wanted to accept it. I guess that we were trying to act numb to it.

You can’t really run away from the reality.  When you’re in a car, or driving or anywhere, you don’t want to get stopped because you might get deported.

My mom, she was angry. My other siblings didn’t want to talk about it, and I guess I was just angry at everybody. I took it upon myself to get angry, because I couldn’t do anything.

I didn’t want to do anything, and I was like, ‘What’s the point of me doing anything, going to school, if I’m undocumented and at any moment I could get deported?’

[Turnstyle: When you were depressed, did you think about going to counseling, or seeing a doctor?]

A doctor, in my family, is not an option. You only see the doctor when you’re to the certain point when you feel like you’re gonna die. And I know that it’s a lot of money.

A month ago I had a big pain in my back. When I laid down and when I breathed it was hurting me. I didn’t want to tell my mom. She was like, ‘I’m going to take you to a doctor. I was like, ‘No don’t take me to a doctor, I know it’s going to be a lot of money, and they’ll just say nothing’s going on with me.’

To undocumented people, going to a doctor or hospital, it’s to a point when you really can’t take it no more.

Related posts:

1. Undocuhealth.org: Addressing Rampant Depression Throughout Undocumented Communities
2. 67 Sueños Mural: A Message From Undocumented Youth
3. Defense Act Sparks Fear For Undocumented Youth
4. Readers Weigh In On “Illegal,” “Undocumented,” “Unauthorized”
5. Alameda County’s New EMS Corps Brings At-Risk Youth To Public Health Work