Ordinary story of extraordinary times

An unusual memoir tells of the profound psychological impact of a childhood spent close to The Troubles, relates UNA BRADLEY

Eina McHugh sips a cappuccino in a Belfast cafe, musing on how external events can have an impact on one’s mental health. It’s the thread running through her first book – an unusual memoir that traces the intensely personal fallout of a childhood lived at the sharp end of The Troubles.

It’s not a straightforward narrative. The structure of her book is the thrice-weekly psychotherapy sessions she undertook in her 20s in an attempt to make sense of her past. In particular, how exposure to violent trauma – her family lived opposite an RUC station that was repeatedly targeted by republican paramilitaries in the 1970s – compounded dysfunctional family dynamics in such a way as to render the author terrified of sexual relationships.

The account is so honest it makes for painful reading. The young McHugh was deeply afraid of sex and barely attracted to men (lesbianism was ruled out). Instead, she threw her significant creative and intellectual energies into a hectic work and social life.

She spent nine years in therapy, and the book reads as much like a love letter to her therapist, referred to as “J”, as it does an account of her own dark night of the soul.

Everyday violence

One of the most striking elements of her story is how The Troubles could profoundly affect an ordinary family. It’s the kind of low-key, but nevertheless powerful, story that is rarely told. “Yes, I really wanted to reflect that,” says McHugh, now 51 and director of the Ark, a cultural centre for children in Dublin’s Temple Bar.

“The violence that was an everyday, lived experience has got very little attention in all the narratives of the Troubles. My family was not directly involved. We were an ordinary, middle-class family living in a small, rural town close to the Border in Co Tyrone.”

As her therapy progresses in the book, memories tumble forth. Those of the repeated bomb attacks on the neighbouring police station form some of the most compelling – and shocking – passages:

“The first bomb. No warning. I’m reading an adventure book in my bedroom. Then, for some reason, I put my book on the bedside table and go into the lounge. Suddenly there’s a big bang and the lights come crashing down. After the chaos, I find the book destroyed by glass and someone is saying, ‘You’d have been cut to pieces’.”